My Dream Vacation
I escape to a place with a coast
Or maybe two, three or four.
Somewhere where history runs in the streets
In the bricks of old houses
Or the uneven cobblestone beneath my feet.
A smell wafts through the air
Something like cooked tomato sauce
And freshly spun pasta.
Where the flower petals are as soft as clouds
And more colorful than rare crystals
Dug up from the sand.
Every sunset is more beautiful than the last
And I never want this place to end.
Copyright © Alex Lee | Year Posted 2022
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