THE MIGRATOR

Every few months
he got an urge to migrate,-
like a wind blowing up a skirt,
inside him,
a desire to flit to a new place,
to taste new sounds
and listen to new foods.
to watch new people's laughter
to experience the cacophony
of cultural adventure.

An itch, that left him fulfilled
when scratched,
but which made him unsuitable
for starting a family,
or for forever love.