poetry about longing – Poetry by Rowan Evans

Author’s Note

I’ve always been fascinated by the places that exist in our minds before we ever reach them.

The City I’ve Never Known came from that strange feeling of dreaming about somewhere you’ve never actually been and somehow believing you’ll recognize it when you finally arrive.

The city in this poem isn’t entirely a physical place. It’s part dream, part longing, part imagination, and part emotional landscape. I’ve never walked those streets awake, never stood beside those waves, never watched that particular moon shimmer across that particular bay.

And yet, somewhere in my mind, I already know them.

Maybe that’s what longing does. It builds places before we reach them. It gives shape to something we can’t quite name and lets us wander through it long before we ever have the chance to arrive.

The city becomes a metaphor for everything we’re drawn toward but haven’t reached yet—the person, the place, the future, the version of ourselves waiting somewhere beyond the horizon.

So I keep walking those streets in my sleep.

Maybe someday, I’ll find them while I’m awake.

And if I do, I suspect I’ll recognize them.

— Rowan Evans

A solitary poet overlooks a mysterious coastal city beneath a moonlit sky, surrounded by silver ocean waves. — *I’ve never lived there. I’ve never walked those streets. So why does somewhere I’ve never known feel so much like home?*

The City I’ve Never Known
Poetry by Rowan Evans

I pull back the layers of my mind,
and make jokes about what I find—
emotions flowing like the ocean,
moving like the tide—moon shimmers,
and in my mind it’s always midnight—
the shimmer trembles across the bay,
in which I’ve never been—

hanging above a city,
in which I’ve never lived—

I walk these streets in sleep,
and while I’ve never been awake—
I know I’ll recognize them
when I see them—

the waves are silver kissed,
white-capped,
carrying our secrets left behind—
and I hear the whispers,
a sirens call, beckoning—

urging me to walk amongst the waves.

It feels better than
simply walking away—

fire flickers then fades,
then I’m in a different place—
ink-stained finger tips,
your name stains my lips—
and gold fills the cracks
my heart holds.

Journey into the Hexverse

If you’re interested in more poetry, you can find it here → [The Library of Ashes]

Poetry by Rowan Evans

Tag: poetry about longing

The City I’ve Never Known | A Dreamlike Poem About Longing & Home