I climb a tree to grab a coconut,

but fall and break my leg. The pain is great.

A group of natives try to help me, but

I crawl across the sand, forever late

for any group festivities. I find

I cannot dance the hula, or embrace

the ocean waves. The water is unkind

with salty slaps that sting my soggy face.

I wonder where my cash and wallet went,

my purple towel, my camera, my pride.

I wish that I were nestled in a tent

in my backyard with Rover by my side.

The happy hills of home are what I crave.

Enchanted isles are only for the brave.

Published on November 1st, 2022