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