Lazily cradled in colorful hammocks,
Zack and I swung in the midafternoon shade.
I had just finished a slice of cake, home-baked
and sold by a barefoot local who peddled her
wares, from palapa to palapa, to the turistas.
I was one of those, for the moment.
Humming Billie Holiday songs and
lamenting no lost time.
Zack offhandedly asked what day today was.
I don't know, I replied. November something.
You know, he continued, I think that Thanksgiving
is someday this week. Maybe today, maybe yesterday.
Oh, really, I hadn't thought about it.
Yeah, he said, as he stared at the Pacific, lulled
back to another relaxed day of not talking much.
Well, happy thanksgiving, if it's today or even if it's not.
The rhapsody of the cool blue waves tranquilized,
and I drifted off to more thoughts of being
completely content with where I was,
what I had, and
who I was with.
(about that endless day around Thanksgiving, 1990, Zipolite, Mexico)
copyright 2007 tammy melody gomez
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