I stay at an underwater hotel
My room cost $40,000 per night
But I used my hotel points I earned
From all the traveling I have done over the years
My room’s floor-to-ceiling windows look out into the royal purple waters
A Convict Surgeonfish swims by
Its electric blue body tilts as it veers to my left
Two snorkelers dive below me
Paying close attention to the rapidly changing current

And watching out for the camouflaged stone fish
Whose spine releases a poison that can cause paralysis
There is no antidote for its venom
Glad that I’m far from the crowds
And in my room relaxing

I dine at the underwater hotel
My table placed against the glass windows
The deep waters below me
And shallow waters above me
I look through the glass ceiling
And see a white light at the top,
Which is a reflection of the sunlight

I visit the underwater hotel’s spa
Tucked underneath white sheets
With hot stones placed on my upper back, neck and shoulders
I close my eyes
Hearing the sounds of rainfall, breaking waves, wind,
Landslides and earthquakes from the depths below
As I get massaged by candlelight

I depart the underwater hotel
The boat taking me back to shore
Where I meet a taxi that takes me to the airport
We glide over turquoise, shallow waters
I look behind me
I see the hotel becoming smaller and smaller
And the deep waters becoming a darker and darker blue
A storm is approaching
The sky reflects how I feel
Now that my solo vacation has come to an end

Copyright © 2024 by Tennessee Reed. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on December 9, 2024, by the Academy of American Poets.