beside the carport
succulents bathe in the gold
of morning sunlight
Weightless
In winter
the sun still rises at seven
so you slip out the front door
lace your shoes
and take a helping
of a sliver slice of sky
gold and orange
beam
through morning clouds
as hopping birds
in breast-high grasses
try their best
to remind you
leave the lists behind
just for these
here
footfalls
forget about
replies
returns
and calculations
being taxed
and the definition
of a standard deduction
never mind
that your ten-year old
has a low-grade fever
within the degrees
that will wrinkle schedules
but only serious enough
to make him grumpy
all around you
dew reflects the spectrum
boughs
lilt in light
you know
it is all
sacred
then glance
at the time
you are walking with the clock today
trying to find the way
to remember
the bigger
in all these
mundane
details
at the
lookout
you see them
three
at sea
where they
breach
breathe
birth
and breed
be
blowholes indicate
their presence
then little hints
sparkling black
glints
of fins
or a back
wet in sunlight
fresh to air
these whales
they
live
suspended
oh so heavy
yet floating
free
of gravity
they carry
a tonnage
of non-issue
spend all day
in lumbering grace
living
in liquid
exhaling
every
so often
breaking
through
the surface
Bottling the Ocean
he wants me to bottle the ocean
fill a calabash
and pack it in a suitcase
fly liquid
3000 miles
to their dusty December
hills
so dry
they’re willing
to try
woo woo
juju
ancient sacred
ceremony
my father’s request
is minimal
it’s the drops that count
but I cannot measure
from my cliff side perch
what sloshes out
before me
in infinite
buckets of sea
Dad, if I could box it
send the whole ocean
to seep and soak the land
in one steady
even
stream
I would
I know
your living
depends on weather
(though this is true for us all)
here
on this island
‘wettest spot on earth’
showers sprinkle
as afterthoughts
off-handed gestures
that come
then go
so often
even locals
begin to complain
and wish for sunny weather
but this morning
I sidestep puddles
and remember
look out to
fluid fathoms
a horizon line
that’s met
with rains
far out at sea
falling from cotton clouds
stretched thin
billowing white chiffon
of drifting droplets
the rising sun
dances in prisms
a pillar of color
vertical to the sky
a rainbow
hologram of hues
waving in the winds
there are measureless multitudes
so many many
drops
pouring down
the spectrum
red to violet
a vibrant promise
to my prayer
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