What I love

⁃ most

about vacation

is just wandering,

wandering aimlessly.

it was this glorious,

get-outside-in-the-sun-Joseph!

picture perfect

beach day,

but I chose to spend most of it

inside,

well,

inside my Marriott Bonvoy

points-paid suite of rooms

with wall-sized

sliding glass doors,

⁃ slid wide open,

windows supervising

a luminescent

azure pounding ocean

just beyond their reach,

see-through sheers

flying like ballroom dancers

on lifts of briny breezes

⁃ watching movies,

dream-reading

old American

frontier romance fiction,

then shuffling,

begrudgingly

in a pair of well-worn contoured

black leather Berkenstocks,

like a too-tired snail

pulling itself, reluctantly

‘cross a sun-drenched

southern French

terra-cotta-tiled pathway,

a trail of glistening slime

regaling its wake,

every centimeter, a toss

between

all the closer

and just too far

to the beachside cafe

for a hardy

sea-side lunch,

then, when all is said & eaten

the awkward posse of successive

backward tripping steps,

⁃ back

onto the bank of elevators:

l-o-b-b-y l-e-v-e-l!

exhorts the whispy

electronic she-voice

14th floor!

a muffled murmur responds

from behind

the faceless

canteen issue

baby-blue

paper pandemic

surgical mask,

schlepping

an empty

black

nylon mesh

back-pack,

back

to my sunny,

breezy window-treated

rooms

for just a little bit more

Sunday

inside, ocean-side

beach-day wandering

⁃ DasVagabonder