The Next Island

“… that untraveled world whose margin
fades for ever and for ever when I move.”
— Alfred, Lord Tennyson

After the third round of chemo
she flew to Hawaii and
after the fourth, to Barbados.
She’s not the first to push
beyond the tottering arc of fate
toward the gleaming, untraveled world.

Back in her desert, she dreams
about the next island.
When, where, how and how much
doesn’t matter as much
as the fact that it’s out there, singing
through the sun like Bali H’ai.

Why resign yourself
to a short life in time
 when there must be
 an eternity of islands?

— Veneta Masson