Journey

Twenty-hour flight,

weary and jetlagged,

I de-board on tarmac.

Summer’s incalescence,

Punch my face.

Crushed leaf,

under my feet.

Swatting mosquitoes,

fearing malaria,

I hail the taxi.

Dusty and sweating,

I watch the traffic,

half closed eyes.

Past the theater,

across the station,

Hotel on site.

I sigh relief,

yield to tiredness.

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In response to the prompt from Friday Fives

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