On the Amalfi Coast

Here I am, exhausted
After two flights and a drive,
Just relaxing on my terrace,
Really glad to be alive.


The sea's stretched out before me,
Terraced hillsides all around;
The patio's bedecked in fuchsia,
Chirping birds abound.


The world I know is miles away.
That's why we choose to travel -
Reality becomes unreal
And ties to it unravel.


It's easy to immerse yourself
In places that seem strange;
Drive the scary mountain roads
And pocket funny change.


Imagine that you lived right here,
A native of the coast -
You'd drive those winding roads
And to the tourists, you'd play host.


Perhaps you'd wistfully indulge,
When looking at their faces,
In yearning to live where they live
And dream of switching places.


The grass may not be greener.
Nobody will guarantee it;
But when I get to travel, well,
At least I get to see it.