We will dance under tangerine skies
in less than a month. The pandemic years
saw the change, the laundry-found money
all hit a dark blue jar, then a tall decanter--
canting towards Maui.
Side jobs, selling the flotsam and jetsam of
collected collections--letting them collect something
other than dust. And Ben began to glow pink
in yet another jar. He gathered friends and
we gathered dreams and made tangerine plans.
Colorful adventures through lush bamboo forests,
meander rainbow eucalyptus groves, share turquoise waters
with humpback whales, wander black sands dotted green
with the turtles--exclamation points to towering palms,
and watch the sun fly across a tangerine crater.
And yes, we will dance. As we always do because
it is better to dance than mope; dance and cope
with the meantimes. And yes, we dream in tangerine
and aquamarine, focus on tomorrow and save pennies.
Mai-Tais in hand, we'll toast our tangerine skies.