The Silence of the Birds
Tenochtitlan rises
From the great lake of life
Shines like a jewel
Shines the natural light
*
The causeway is lined
With the birds of their world
With their colors so vivid
With their songs so pure
A Dare?
purchase provigil online A tiny Inca Dove, Tortolita Colilarga, flew into the casita where I was writing today
He landed on an interior windowsill and we studied each other for a moment
I see this bird and his mate side-by-side in the jardin every day
I glanced outside and there she was—his companion—waiting on the stonewall
A Dream of Moon and Salt Water
I dream of the full moon in November
Sunset and moonrise coincide
The surging tide ignores its limits
I seek the extreme point of beach left exposed
A careful look for that place where fish will surely be
I cast my line far out into the surf
Then wait
Deep Breath
The lobster exposed itself darting backwards across a twenty-foot open sandy area, then ducked into a ten-inch wide hole in the reef. The water wasn’t deep, maybe ten or twelve feet—yet well over my head. I took a breath through my snorkel, dove beneath clear Caribbean waters and kicked hard, hurrying after the lobster. Arriving at the lobster’s hiding spot, I hastily plunged my stick into the small cave. My attention was distracted from the lobster as I saw an arm appear from nowhere, reach out from one side of the opening, and wrap around my stick, then another. Suddenly, I had a clear view of an octopus or part of one—suction cups, rapidly changing colors, a hint of an eye.
I am seduced by seashells
I walk along a beach spread with seashells
Long streaks parallel to the surf line
The display surprises me
There are punctuations in depressions holding large masses of shells like trays of jewels