Like a talisman, Bali rests in my mind.
Like a smooth semi-precious stone, a poet’s amethyst,
Bali is there.
I close my eyes, its Ubud at night.:
gamelan trickling, lights in the trees.
I undress and the wet morning heat breathes on my body.
At work, I drink Bali from the ambient side
of the water-cooler. Bali reclines,
teases me from rice-terraces,
calls from the monkey-forest.
Like the biggest fiercest monkey it tugs
at the strap on my bag, grabs at my shoulder.
Won’t leave me. Won’t let me go.