Then Sunset

look and see
before it 
goes away.

the sun is best 
just moments
before the sky
goes dark.

she tells me
when it hurts
so very badly.

i see so little,
but i try to help,
but am helpless.

my sorrow is
her pain must
be hers alone.

i cannot feel it,
though it 
tortures me,
 
because i know 
she is in pain,

and i care.

the sun is best 
just moments
before the sky
goes dark.

Rattlesnake Point

   from here 
      it looks
so different,

   and it seems
      like another
world, a wonder.

someone thought
   its name might
frighten tourists.

   so they put a
different name
      on the map.

      local people
laugh about it.

they know that
rattlesnakes are
      native too.

   they are not 
overly sensitive 
      about it.

      and if tourists
   are too scarey,
a good bite might
   set things right!

Ring of Fire

   mute evidence of 
long ago eruption, 

   cooling rocks 
swim in warm 
   pacific waves.

      a thousand
   miles away
a gentle breeze
   stirred a sea,

   and pushed a
surface droplet
against another
      and another.

   the pile rose 
and now waves 
      wash over
these dark rocks,

      we watch their
rhythmical arrival,
   hear a pattern
      of splashes.

they could be a clock,
   dividing our days.

      we might live
between wave peaks,
   resting in valleys.

      and how the sun 
burns down on us.




Coral Sand, Black Lava

white coral sand, 
      wet black lava,
   tropical seas, 
the summery sky!

      every day seems
a wonderful dream.

we eat shave ice
   but not much
      ice cream.


      a secret beach
seems such an idea!
 
down a private road,
(we asked the young
      guard for access, 
      quickly granted)
we were on our way.

   a narrow road on 
      white coral sand,
a gift from the bowels
   of many parrotfish,
   and we are grateful.


      a wonderful
uncrowded beach.
      we carried on,

to welcome shade 
      beneath hot
      sunny skies.

   in black and white,
feeling, no surprise.

Downstream View

from high above,
      i look at
rushing waters,

   spilling over
      wet and 
rounded rocks.

our lives too
   sometimes
rush, spilling
   over rocky
       dangers,

   where we
might smash,

breaking ribs
   and more,

      desperately
   struggling in
   wild torrents,
gasping for air.

from cliffside
      outlooks,

   it all looks
      beautiful
and peaceful.

but sometimes
   in rushing
      tumults,
 
      we learn
desperation,

      beaten by
wild currents,
we sometimes
      survive.