Abandoned sneakers crown a pile of drying palm fronds, as though they’ve been parted from their legs much as the palm fronds have been severed from their trees.
form walls
on either side,
then
way
to stalks
of purple blooms with saffron tongues
The white bands of butterflies striped like zebras announce their presence in the shade,
In the path lies the circular mounded artistry of ants that signals that new and private world they’ve cleared out for themselves below.
turns me homewards,
turning into soil.
and cobblestones
The runoff from last night’s rain shoots from the drain that pierces a high stone wall.
Happy face
that was here before we came, has been here all along,
and will remain after we leave. This is the more constant truth of the world, and I return home to create a reminder of it.
Click on first photo to enlarge all photos. The poem it illustrates has been edited in this version. To see poem in its entirety, go HERE.