Hope to Return

Maybe at Christmas

or next year

to return to Portugal

learn the language

hike on a rugged

coastline

to the surf

of Mediterranean

or Atlantic

hope to return

_____________

NaPoWriMo prompt to the concept of return. Last day for thirty days of writing poetry. So hoping there will be a return to traveling.

Hope to Return

Crete

  
   

Crete in late October

stay at the Domes Noruz

beach resort in Chania

a feast at breakfast 

rental car required 

to visit Elafonisi

most beautiful pink beach

follow winding road

through countryside

visit a monastery 

hike Imbros Gorge

so much to do

on an island

or do nothing

  

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dVerse prompt on travel.  Hoping for the day I can return to Crete.

Crete

Wonder Uterus

Sunny gardenia

gothic drink in the morn

gecko or fox in a hole

this penny & tulips

wonderful uterus

lover of countries

democracy & t-shirts

a tornado of Hemingway’s

sunshine

Dear Jane

Kim is dead

turtle & Goodnight Moon

rebar into birds singing

of governments & ferries

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NaPoWriMo prompt to take the quiz presented and make it a poem. The Wonder Uterus graffiti was found in Lisbon, the land of graffiti.

Wonder Uterus

Travel Memories

Shutterfly delivery on the porch

an archive of our last trip

to the Middle East

Portugal

countries of West Africa

Spain Italy Albania Greece

Cut the edges

make each photo fit

record the moments

we took the heat of Dubai

posed with a volcano in Sicily

selfies with monuments

Find more detail with the spy glass

in the faces of our Ghanaian friends

that trek up Prayer Mountain

visit clear waters of Lake Bosumtwi

smiles of our host family in Abidjan

tears when we were leaving

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NaPoWriMo prompt to collect an archive and write

Travel Memories

Mixed Travel

Sign reads

life-sustaining waters

nobody moved an inch

going day by day

enshrined

dangling on clouds

voices that echoed

a memory of singing

 

I know this dream is about death

remember the fig tree that did not bear fruit

destination just too far away

air was so fresh

along the shore of the Mediterranean

digging into the ground at Mt Etna

thieves working

hot rocks under foot

 

Everyone waits for the next big eruption

remember the day

dance with the children

oil on canvas

sound of a thousand bees

fresh eyes of many fish

world of confounded language

Orion fading

 

So smooth

tropical vegetation

people begin to rumble

anchored by stones

when you return

each step a prayer

a rainbow over Kumawu

as we travel on

 

With signs

no time for chicken

so we don’t forget

when the sky is clearer

our daily bread

cool breeze

who has the right of way

like cowry shells

 

Languages come together

you could be anywhere

bananas from Ecuador

no one goes away hungry

birds make a melody

flying into day

even when still

 

 

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NaPoWriMo prompt with my own personal twist.  Took a line from many of my travel poems and created this mixed travel poem.

 

 

 

Mixed Travel

Lake Bosumtwi

 

IMG_6611

A meteor struck

filled with rain

fish came

 

twenty tribes

along the shore

speak Twi

 

fishermen

& their families

tour guides too

 

akwaaba   welcome

medaase   thank you

mayera   I’m lost

 

primary school

helps the children

learn English

 

sacred lake to Ashanti

protect her

life-sustaining waters

 

Tumi nyina ne asase

All power emanates

from the earth

 

 

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NaPoWriMo prompt to write a place poem.  Lake Bosumtwi is the only natural lake in Ghana,  an ancient impact crater.

 

 

Lake Bosumtwi

Returning

IMG_8706

 

October 30, 2019, returning from Athens to NYC.   My daughter and I had traveled together for two months without having any major disagreements. There was just one night in Dubai when I was verging on being a selfish, judgmental person; I got over it. At the outset of the trip, I said I wanted only three things— to go to Prayer Mountain in Ghana, to do a day trip to Morocco, and to visit Pompeii.   I am easy to please most of the time.

 

I take it back. There was a moment on the train from the Athens airport to our hotel in the heart of Athens when I was so nervous about getting off at the correct station that two pickpockets targeted us. My daughter felt a hand in her bag and looked the thief in the eye. He bolted without her wallet. It was an elaborate scheme where one thief held the door from opening, while the other went for the cash. My lesson— stay alert, don’t become a victim.

 

Now that I am remembering— the other time my daughter got mad at me was at the Catania Airport when I turned into an “ugly American” and told off a group of Italians on the tarmac bus to move closer together so everyone could get on. I was shouting in English and nobody moved an inch.

 

 

trip of a lifetime

pray for Europe  Africa

and all of the world

 

 

 

dVerse prompt to use a poem written about myself and write a haibun based on that poem. I used my poem Language written October 7, 2019, while I was on this trip and at one point, didn’t know where I was. Now I pray that someday I can return, especially to Ghana.

Returning

My Stronghold

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…” Charles Dickens

 

I am on the road going home. Now it is getting complicated. The world is experiencing a pandemic. My home state of Washington is a hotspot for the virus. Hopefully they will not quarantine the whole state but I imagine that could happen. Right now I am in Arizona because New Mexico has closed its state parks.

We were told in the morning that all campers had to be out by 5pm. That was at City of Rocks, a geological phenomenon, volcanic in nature, of monolithic stones in an outcropping out in the southeast of New Mexico. It is remote, out of the way but met the criteria of 100+ people gathering. We ate breakfast, packed up, hit the highway to Arizona.

My favorite camping in Arizona is Chochise Stronghold. It is where Chochise held up to keep the Dragoon’s and the US Calvary at bay. The terrain protected the people. If I can’t go home, I want to be at Chochise Stronghold. He is buried here somewhere in the Dragoon Mountains. Nobody knows or will tell the exact location, but the history draws me to this place even though there are only pit toilets.

I can’t get my mind off of the history of small pox. My grandmother lived through a small pox epidemic when she was a child but her mother and sisters died. I hope my genetics will get me through this pandemic of Coronavirus. Right now I have my health, my supplies. I could probably stay out here for a month. There is a stream running where I could boil water. Wash my body, my hair.

We are going day by day, watching the news feed on the internet. Nobody really knows what is going on. They say China has it under control. Italy not so much. People are dying in their homes. If you watch a documentary on the Spanish Flu of 1918, it is very sobering, so being proactive is understandable. It all seems to be the worst of times.

 

a season of change

happening the world over

now we wait it out

My Stronghold