Saturday, May 27, 2017

Three Suitcases





     I left home with three suitcases.

     Warm breeze and sun gold skin. Diamond Head glitters in a wash of  pastel pink. I sip frosty beer and drink in independence.

     Next stop: Hong Kong. A jumble of neon, a sprinkling of staccato language, a glassy harbor and a frame of jagged peaks surround me. Alone in my apartment, the journey feels fast. Suddenly a girl adrift in Asia; beam me home.
     Harbor lights signal ships to safety and  I pull myself together.

I left home with three suitcases. The past is packed, the present is heavy, but the future may be full of light.  

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