poetry

learning how to wait

learning how to wait

we Americans don’t know how to wait
like other people do:
burning long days
in the broiling tin-roofed tuck shop shack
waiting for a grubby kid
to buy a single pack of candy
comfortably squatting flat-footed
in the consulate’s courtyard for days
with only cigarettes for diversion
staking out the harbor
(any harbor anywhere)
now and then querying transport?
sitting in the Singapore doctor’s office
waiting for #1750 to appear
in red dot digits outside exam room A7

in the lands where queuing is a verb
an action one takes
an inescapable reality
they know (sometimes)
how to give themselves over
to the suspension of time
savor the need to not do
for an interminable spell

poetry

Kokoro

Owen took this photo. Kokoro is the local name for the Togian hawk-owl, which was first described in the scientific literature in 2004. We saw this little owl several times at Bahia Tomini. The staff called this individual owl Kokoro, which is also the sound this species makes.

Kokoro

little Kokoro
materializing from black sky and palm leaf
a tiny spirit
to watch over our evenings

he sits quietly
never even murmuring his name
watching us with
round golden rings of alert eyes
his blade of a beak
a still secret
in the middle of his sweet gentle face

tonight he appeared
close enough to touch
wanting to not be missed
inviting us to say hello
and when Cedar stood alone with him
and whispered a kind greeting
Kokoro cocked his little head
all attention and understanding
fully engaged in their
friendly tête-à-tête

poetry

Togian Tank

Togian Tank

water like glass
smooth, edged with
conchoidal fractures
like aquamarine obsidian

and when we peep
through its lens
a fish tank
without bounds