SEA BEFORE THE RAIN

At the memory of trees
An image arrests
My far off eye.....

The island sky is dark
As the afternoon monsoon
Steams in from the hell hot
Surface of the Natuna sea.
White foam scalds the toes
Beneath the temporarily threatened
Equatorial eye in his height.
Coast sand scorches in an
Eternal white ribbon
Tying emerald fleshy jungle fringe
To silty grey brown ocean.
White and red and blue paint peal
From the high prowed fishing prahu
Beached to blister on the silica strand.

The fisherman’s chocolate leather
Skin bakes a deeper brown
Ancient eyes narrowed to the glare
Beneath the weathered rim
Cracked and pale palm fronds
Woven green and skillful by a
Loving woman’s hands, mother, wife, or
Daughter not far hence.
At rest before the rain, one hand upon
The forestem, one foot on the sand
The other tucked beneath him
A human heron in contemplation.

The rain comes on, soaring rushing wave
Soft black billows
Mounted on slanted silver spears
Plowing the wide salt field
With splashing white furrows.
And now the sand melts and runs
In plastic smoothness under this ocean in the air
And oven’s heat enough to
Warm old cold souls
Gives way before a child’s dream of
Breathtaking cool and laughing wet

Even old fishermen might dance.