My Tropical Vacation

By Dorthy LaVerne McCarthy

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




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