-- The Big Island, August
White blossoms, gold-irised,
plumeria princesses blinking
at the touch of salt spray.
Lanai time is a gecko
that sidles up the lampshade.
Wasps weave through holes
in the lava rock wall at Puako Beach.
Afternoons, the ballet
of sea turtles goes on till dusk
creeps onto land and thought
trips, falls splat! and porous
as pumice, to float in an amniotic sea.
Bamboo clack, the rhythmic clock
of surf to Hilo's diva
on the radio as we night-cruise
earth's red seam, zigzag lava fields.
Song smokes out
the car's moon-rimmed window:
Who cares, Who cares?
Warbles cheap as tomorrow,
when another planeload stumbles
onto steaming asphalt. We pass them
on our way to the mainland, in time
to see their muscles sag, bags drop,
as they trot entranced to sea.
Atlanta Review, Bellingham Review, Boulevard, North American Review, The Pedestal, Rattapallax, Swink, Ravishing DisUnities: Real Ghazals in English (Wesleyan University Press, 2000), etc.
Femme au chapeau (forthcoming 2005 from David Robert Books), Earth Lessons (Bellowing Ark Press)