August 18 - August 22
I firmly close the front door, pat my zippered pocket
fingertips confidently confirming the contents
keys, phone and a small wrapped snack
then sling the backpack of carefully chosen
belongings over my shoulder and head to the airport
only later experiencing the raw poke of a few
favorite things left behind somewhere at home
half a day away the uneasy longing evaporates
into zebra butterflies, green geckos and
several snails attached barnacle-like
to the roughly textured side of the house
soft, supple bodies safely barricaded
within beautifully striped shells they
have constructed for themselves
I watch these immobile wall earrings hang
on the sun-scorched surface for several days
snail miles away from water and anything edible
finally a morning rain and their estivation ended
there is not a snail to be found as I bend down
whispering a word of thanks into the grass
to the travelers who comforted me far from home