Questions of Travel

by Elizabeth Bishop

Think of the long trip home. 

Should we have stayed at home and thought of here? 

Where should we be today? 

Is it right to be watching strangers in a play 

in this strangest of theatres? 

What childishness is it that while there's a breath of life 

in our bodies, we are determined to rush 

to see the sun the other way around? 

The tiniest green hummingbird in the world? 

To stare at some inexplicable old stonework, 

inexplicable and impenetrable, 

at any view, 

instantly seen and always, always delightful? 

Oh, must we dream our dreams 

and have them, too? 

And have we room 

for one more folded sunset, still quite warm? 

Sunset, Jeju Island.

(For the rest of the poem, go here. Picture is from here.)