I Wanted to Write Like Annie Dillard (a #poem)

I wanted to write like Annie Dillard
away, alone, aware–
not here in the middle
of this city/suburbs life.
Long to leave asphalt, concrete
the multiplying cars
with their inhuman noises.
Instead seek a vista, a vale
offering color and light, some quiet
to inspire words like a flowing brook
across quiet pebbles.

Only to discover myself a pilgrim
not at Tinker Creek, but here in the
hum, surprised to be a writer
in spite of this ever present
Reality, days of down-to-earth
distractions.
How?
Every time I want to run away
to Another Perfect Place
words follow me
like a homing pigeon
dropping his message,
crumbs at my feet
where my life has
been all along.