In the middle of a monsoon
with my eyes pressed down tight
gulping in moist mellow lungfuls
of saturated air
I am almost
almost
home where
the air is pregnant with dew
painting the land vivid and fertile
a green unknown by desert dwellers
and washing my soul.
Gusts of wind buffet my face
but I can almost
almost
reign them in to become
a gentle persistent ocean breeze
welcoming me back with a kiss
breathed across left and right cheekbone.
But no matter how tightly
I press eyelashes against wishful cheek
I can never
never
transform the sharp tang of creosote
after an afternoon thunderstorm
into the rich heady aroma of
plumeria thick with a
new morning’s tears.
Photo Credit: Plumeria by TANAKA Juuyoh on Flickr; used under Creative Common License 2.0.
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Lovely poem ❤ Kate, I could see it in my mind……… I had a brief, lovely visit, to Hawaii. Thanks!
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Thank you, Tammy! I grew up there.
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Love it, love it, love it! Brought me back to Hawaii, too! I know I was only there with you guys for 10 days, but it was 10 of the most blissful days of my life. I fell in love with the island. And OH! the plumeria!
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I remember. You connected with Hawaii instantly, my dear. One day, when we’re old and gray (so not too long now, hahaha), we should take a trip back together. A crotchety old ladies trip. We will drink in the scent of plumeria and dance in the rain!
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You are on a roll, Kate.
Beautiful. I just love the poet in you.
Looking forward to many more.
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Thank you for the encouragement! Really! I often worry that poetry is self-indulgent and guilt myself into writing more “productive” things.
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