Islands In the Stream
turquoise, I’d rather be
then haphazard and choppy,
still
floaters show my age—
islands, a chain.
not far from Manhattan,
dropped in the valley—
estranged
from the Erie,
canal of my hearing
rearranged.
aloha,
doused in leis—
not all to my liking
but they tempered
my hide.
travelogue strides—
negativity
slides into the sea
precipitantly.
9/18/2021
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