An older poem...

I'm retiring this from my send-out file. I am also looking out my office window at the rain and wishing I were far away.


She means to be gone only a moment,
browsing a travel brochure while I vacuum.
But she steps onto a white beach at Santorini

where sunlight smells of olive trees
and blue sea. A handsome Greek gets her drunk
on grappa. So she'll have a headache

when she wakes. So he doesn't speak English.
She speaks the soul's language. He's good
with his tongue. Besides, she never

has headaches. It's me who will wake
clutching the heel of one hand over an eye,
mourning my reluctant body, bereft without her.


  1. Did you write this poem? Dream on, we need dreams, places to go at least in our minds i.e I want to live in a cabin in Appalachia for a month - I went there once - now I just visit in a dream - but maybe........


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