Poetic Asides Haunting, Poetic Bloomings anticipation, October 5 Alaska Trip

 Vacating Vacation

 

The thing about vacations

is that they’re over fast.

Not having to cook and clean,

I wish that part would last.

 

Now, I’m a tad bit spoiled,

as it comes to an end.

Alaska is now part of me.

It’s like leaving a friend.

 

The memories are haunting

by photos that I took.

And hopefully I’ll take the time

to put them in a book.

 

I took an eight-mile bike ride,

in Juneau, in the rain.

In Skagway, Sis and I went up

the mountain in a train.

 

In Ketchikan, hiked the woods

and rode a raft-like boat.

Then we snapped pics of the glaciers

from in our ship, afloat.

 

In Victoria, we rode a trolley

pulled by two big horses

We ate really late that night,

three delicious courses.

 

But I’ll return to Colorado

With anticipation.

I’m worn out and need

a vacation from my vacation.

October 4th Poetic Bloomings Reaping the harvest, Alaska Trip

 

Visual Feasts

 

“My eyes feast on the autumnal hues” Michelle Hed

 

If my eyes had tummies

they’d be as full this autumn

as my tummy after a cruise buffet

from the tinges of yellow

in my locust tree in Colorado.

The saguaro cactus stark against

the pinks, oranges, and purples

of the Arizona desert sunset,

the oranges and golds dotting the greenery in Seattle,

the blue sky, brown cliffs, snowy mountains

and splashes of green and gold in Alaska.

And back to golden aspens and red oak in Colorado.

No matter where you go,

autumn holds a feast for the eyes.

 

October 3, 2026, Alaska Trip

 

Taking it Easy

 

As I awaited at my flight gate,

a woman walked her Golden Retriever

off the flight before mine.

 

The dog, obviously in its latter years,

made it to the cool tile, and lay down,

not being persuaded by its owners

to move a muscle.

 

The owner, instead of pulling the leash,

or picking the large dog up

waited patiently,

smiling at the understanding passengers

as they went by.

 

A family stopped: young parents

and two little kids

and petted the dog

which looked only mildly interested

at the attention.

 

The lady’s traveling companion,

likely her husband, took a seat.

 

I envied the dog a bit.

There have been times in the airport,

where it would have been nice to lay down

on the cold floor and not move

and not care what anyone thought.

 

Before I had to figure out

how to tiptoe around them

to board the plane,

the dog decided its rest was over

and it moved on.

October 3, 2026, Alaska Trip

 

 

Toddler repeating Ma Ma

I can follow their audible path

Through the airport

October 3, 2026, Alaska Trip

 

Seattle

Orange and gold tinges

Pine forests

Fast traffic

The Needle off in distance

Blue sky, no rain, cool

October 3, 2026, Alaska Trip

 

Transporting to Another World

 

From being fed a bountiful supply

To cooking three meals a day.

From having someone clean for me,

To doing housework every day.

From handwriting in my journal

To working on my computer.

From a gentle rocking ship

to a sleepy small town.

From fun with Sis

To life with Hubby.

From new spaces, faces, and activities

To same places, people and tasks.

From adventure

To routine.

From no pressure to do anything,

To a long to-do list.

Thankful for both worlds.

October 2, 2026, Alaska Trip

 

Last Excursion

 

After being on sea all day,

Victoria was our next stop.

We rode on a horse-drawn trolley

And we didn’t take time to shop.

 

The horses obeyed voice commands.

In dark of night, we rode through town.

The driver told us lots of tales

Of how their history went down.

 

We packed, for this was our last day.

And we were saddened by the thought.

We would be going home to stay,

Except our Egypt tour’s been bought.