My Dream Vacation
Dream vacations, many I had
from Trinidad to Petrograd.
Stood on great pyramids, great walls,
watched dying swans in gilded halls.
Threw a penny in a fountain;
flew around the highest mountain.
Observed the wildebeest roam wild,
ran river rapids undefiled.
Under painted chapel ceilings
choking back my inner feelings.
Donizetti at La Scala,
on to Harlem for Shalala.
The entire world was at my feet,
people to see and hear and meet.
Grandfathers, too, the world they saw,
though mainly through the lens of war.
Locations where I freely roam;
for some, it was their final home.
They paid the price so you and I
can sip a cocktail in Versailles.
I fear it all begins again:
The war, the suffering, the pain.
My children may not ever see
the beauty that the world showed me.
There was world peace for a short time
I lived through that. It was sublime!
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