Roadlust

How do I tame,
this ennui in me, always aflame?

How do I frame,
this moment, without giving it a name?

Ballets of Cranes, a helicoptering Kite,
moon-drenched clouds coupling in the night.

The voices in my head, the itch in my feet;
lead on to where silvery roads meet.

Born in this boring age, which wrong will I right?
restlessness is my only might.