Aitutaki Poem by Charlotte Ballard

 
The dream of escape
Is carved, usually
From the mist of
Ocean foam curved
in the hollow of a mullock=s
Shell, A deserted island
No taxes or rent, or
Even CDs push
Into an existence
Carved with the palm of
A hand roughed by
Climbing Coconut
Palms swaying in time
To the ocean current.
Heat relieved by a
Dip in green marred by
Slippery blue. Yet
I search for a tangle like
that in the middle of my
Heart...not chest, not really
maybe, it might be so.
I want the kind of peace
That comes on confined
Air-conditioned air swirled
By unseen blades of
Truth and Daring to be
More.