|Packing for Maui
Shorts. Already short
of space and time, certainly of leg.
Bathing suits me; I love to swim
but I’m glad I’m on the inside looking out.
Empty space for found treasures; memories
take no space at all yet are everything I need.
Tied here by cords, family.
Charging sheer necessity
of devices, cards, muse.
I am unmatched, living a pajama life—
clashing only works in home office.
I will hide in the palm of my mind.
Inside looking out to unparalleled sunsets,
endless supply of wave and whale.
I need not see me against a beach to know
where I was; turtles are more photogenic anyway,
Plumeria and hibiscus scent the mind, island songs
sing from eucalyptus trees and leis encircle the soul.
No idea what is layered; duffled and encased.
No fashionista here; just yearning for lava-ed sand
and bamboo wanders. Trees can’t see and waves come and go,
dancing to moon rhythms—washing all clean.
The what has lost all meaning; the why grows day by day.
I was packed before I ever started.