Poems
By Antonina Testaverde / Contributor
It wasn’t just about travel.
It was friendship, hardship, growth.
It was living outside of comfort in order to define what comfort was.
A way to break free from the monotony and move closer to some kind of realization.
And it could not be grasped, no matter how I tried.
It was evolution: without guidance.
A route: without a compass.
It was pulling the weeds in order to let the wildflowers grow as they may.
Haphazard, Beautiful:
Free.
Without Apology.
Tokyo
March 13
thematthewrome.com 