She knew it ...

She knew it – when she went there

Just a ten day trip
booked in a travel
agency by a Marcy person
who said it was “the thing”
although she
had “never been”
Marcy “wanted to”
“someday” after
a requisite trip down
an aisle

She turned her ring
heavy on her finger

and tried to smile
sweetly like brides
do in those magazines

as Marcy whispered
giddily that she “already”
had “her dress”
hanging in her closet
cleaned confessionally
professionally

She turned her ring
heavy on her finger

In the aiport they argued
about a borrowed camera
who was going to hold it
he pulled the strap hard
and it fell on the tile floor
smacked itself useless
and his ring too big
flew off and skittered

he stopped it with
his shoe and a black
look, temple throbbing
with that vein that
did that thing

She wore a tight linen
skirt pale blue and short
a matching jacket
no pill-box Jackie hat as
she had imagined
she would when
a woman

Engines lifted all of them
in a concert of expectant
faces staring at sudden
clouds filling the window
seats and lit cigarettes
drifting esses through
the cabin

Until dizzy she leaned
on his hard shoulder and
slept until the plane
bumped
and then

in the opened
door she stood
at the top of
silver stairs
elixered air
warm as mother’s
milk sweetly
wrapped in
the rounded softness
of perfumed air
solid as soft
shoulders
tatooed HOME

tarred tarmac
reached as
a waving ribboned
welcome

spreading womanly
emerald hills
reclining on generous
hips curving the sea
aquamarine
clear
lapping gently
along the lip
of horizon
shimmering

beyond the
filagree of
crimsoned
frangipani
days
already
unfolding
in
luscious
rescued
ringing

she removed
her shoes
her jacket
released her
blouse from
skirt
and stepped

smiling
sure
into
the
knowing
it

****************

Happy Birthday to me
Happy Poeming to The Street
Happy April Poetry Month
Happy Homecoming to All