The View From Here
From where I sit, I see the trees
all massed in fifteen shades of green
and at the very top, some forty feet
above the ground, a spike of lavender
presents an invitation to the bees, the birds
and asks for propagation of the species.
Below the mango tree,
the hard green buds of fruit
a month away from eating
swing back and forth
above the bougainvilleas
massed in clouds of purple,
salmon, white, the palm tree spikes
and brown of crotons adding contrast
texture to the picture I wish that I could paint.
The world is swaying, shining,
as the wind and sun fall
from the blue, blue sky to spread themselves
in lazy playtime, ruffling leaves
and steaming as they pass to flirt
with curtains clinking metal weights
against the dusty mesh of screens
which keep nothing out,
but let in light and air
and sometimes fleas
from feral cats in search of supper
breakfast, anything to eat.
The road itself is melting
oozing tar and tangy scent of building
while the tumbled earth next door
so newly excavated,
is raw and reddish brown as though it bleeds
as it makes way for human living.
From where I sit, I see a world
all filled with life, with colour, with forever.