Chip chip

Birds follow my commuting train

And measure with me to the south

In this rainy day.

Their voices are far,

their wings looking for adventure in the lab,

My hands in a bag of chips

Fitted for breakfast.

Adventure ready

The rays of the early day
And the sweet smell of the morning
Are the perfect sense to the adventure
I am starting alone.
The Luggage is full at the door
And the diary has white pages left.

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