Leaving Acadia

What was there to see
Beyond home?
Meaningless chatter
Of idle miscreants
Her father told her
Borderlands bursting with diaspora
And touching that, the Sick Country
Disease and devastation
Why leave?

Peaceful
Tranquil
Lush
Meadowlands unfolded around her
The waving green of an upright people
A young sheep bleated
For its mother in the distance
And beyond that, their closest neighbor
Never too near
For preservation

She had heard
Of healthy cities
Places bustling with action
Street musicians and market stalls
Copper pots and scarlet tapestries
A figment at best
She was warned, let it rest

The sun was setting now
Over the eastern mountains
Gripping her walking staff and
Shrugging her pack into
A comfortable position
She whispered a grateful prayer
That she had not listened