Last Day

The wind is still whipping and roiling the ocean and tossing the palm trees and yet, it is still so beautiful.
The wind pulls smiles out of people- shoulder shrugs. What are you going to do?
You are going to fly over this deep turquoise/blue/violet/green water, you are going to fly down the streets where the wind will be whipping the laundry on rooftop lines, where people will be wearing jackets because it is winter, winter, even though it is maybe seventy-four degrees. You are going to sit at tables where the waiters anchor the napkins with something, you are going to fly, fly, fly into the jungle where they can't find you, where without a machete you would be trapped for eternity.
You are not going to go snorkeling today but you are going to cry.
There will be saltwater in your eyes, one way or another.