-
Won his island’s wrestling championship at 16.
Went on to capture the All-Islands title.
Was unanimously voted chieftain when he returned home.
At 64, he still shimmies up coconut trees each morning
to collect breakfast, which he shares with a gaggle of kids, then
sorts out island squabbles fairly and justly.
And still offers to wrestle any islander who wants his title.
No one volunteers. Not from fear of losing, but of winning.
And living with the stain of dethroning
the man everyone still calls “Father.”
-
Comes The Sun
It’s the anticipation you feel
when you reach out to touch the world.
And the exhilaration when the world
touches you back.
-
It’s more than a step in ballet,
it’s a way of being.
One toe out, body loose,
letting the day drift by
like a river.
-
MATERIAL: Rhododendron Root
-
It’s a state of mind.
Calming. Soothing. Contemplative.
Without a splinter of discord.
-
The perfect time for
a wader to hunt.
Part bird, part branch,
part chopsticks,
he stalks the shallows
with a taste for wild sashimi.
-
Rated 5.00 out of 5
It could be Ballet. Or Flamenco,
Modern dance, Folk, Jazz, Fox Trot. Country Western . . .
The style isn’t important. All that matters is
whether or not it moves you.
-
You head out early to buy a well-deserved treat.
A rude driver cuts you off, but you don’t honk.
The person you hold the bakery door for
beats you to the last six cream-filled donuts.
Your cream-filled donuts.
You sigh and settle for bundt cake, which you
carefully place on the passenger seat.
As you drive off, a pothole bounces the cake
to the floor—where yesterday’s compost spill lies.
But still, you smile. You’ll be home soon,
enjoying the Trio’s silent song.
-
A roller coaster ride for your eyes.
