no markers in sight
sense being unmoored from time
some abstract yearning
Adapted from the article, Trekking the Great Ocean Walk: ‘Stand with no land mass between your sweaty skin and Antarctica’ and the line:
I drop back to walk alone and with no markers of era in sight, it could be a hundred years ago; a thousand. The sense of being unmoored from time satiates some abstract yearning I didn’t even know I had.
