A nod to travel

Thoughts of lemon groves and clifftop towns

Come flooding in like siren calls

Music to my ears, anguish to my mother’s

The word interrailing instils a jolt of excitement

A pang of yearning

It shocks me on this tube

And I sizzle under it’s electrical wave

Sicilian lemons and towns perched atop cliffs

Inked a teal blue

Etched in a haze of mythology

Parting the blue with our flippers

(There’s an “our” in this solo travel tale?)

There’s rusty coral smirking at the bottom

Fish wide eyed and grinning from fin to fin

I’m poised on the edge of adventure

And every reminder of Europe

Every soot saddled tunnelled journey

Makes me long for it even more

Those Sicilian lemons

That castle in Ischia.

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