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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