After the rain
watching the chickens
deliberate in the grass
a small gecko working its way up
the palm cane
a flash of guava
at its throat
this sultry, verdant place—
we all sleep easily
but lightly
the soporific ocean
the balmy taro fields
water pooling like mercury
around the alien stalks
a dreamscape
a floating afterlife
earth made sky
the heaviness of air
suddenly palpable—
strange to step out
of a life
so abruptly
watch it go on
from such a distance
a half-remembered dream
something that mattered once
maybe even yesterday—
What time is it? You asked
as we approached the date line
leaving the flares of sunset
behind us
watching the earth bend
what could I say?
The rooster’s tail feathers
split like palm fronds
in the wind
none of these birds
have any fear
as I drowse in the heat
they flit under my chair
with feet like foreign
punctuation
one lit on my ankle
a soft slight weight
proof of something
perhaps our relative buoyancies