'St. Lucia Landing' (excerpt)

st lucia balcony .jpeg

St. Lucia Landing (excerpt 6)


Toy bougainvillea,

a hint of the magenta cascades

across the lane and back in

Dana Point, my old haunt

west of Capistrano, hardly the same

two-seahorse town 20 years on

in full-build gallop—


Anchored boat

wobs just so,

a port, a pier,

a raft in the middle,

going nowhere, holding on,

its white-arrow bow

aimed to go when

twin swimmers haul

their sopping selves aboard


The English and

French and


gumbo lingo

makes a talk I can’t get—

it’s a classical music,

and I can’t i.d.

composer, tune,

or recording number

st lucia conch.jpeg


The hermit crab

or fiddler, one claw busy,

works its way uphill,

emerging from a ground hole

or tree base, the slightest move,

then gone—


Curved clay tiles,

color of plant pots

and pipes, the same

terra cotta roofing

in hot Mexicali,

mission style, pieces

of tomato-dyed pasta,

hard shells formed on

the shins of early builders

st lucia sailboat.jpeg