getting out

it's nice to get away.
to go
to some foreign port
where you don't know
the language. where
the people are strange,
where they cast their dark
eyes upon
you and flick ashes
in front of your path.
the houses
look different.
the tilt of red tiles,
the broken chimneys
and gates.
even the dogs that wander
the street
have a look about them.
the smell of food
cooking, what is it?
it could be anything.
what's in the wind.
how did the ocean become
that color of blue?
nothing is the same
as it was
from where you came.
you could live here
forever
and forget the past.
be done with all the things
you know.