Uninspiringly a soft black snake slips across the path
Flicks its pink forked tongue in the damp Florida air
And disappears into the myriad of green ferns
As if you to say “Your existence is inconsequential”
And perhaps footsteps in the mud is all the hammock
Will remember of us (like memories of the dead).

So the zebra long-wing floats on an embankment of breeze
Stops to rest on an orchid high atop an oak tree
Covered in a vague blanket of whiskery purple plants
Hanging over the reflection of a speechless sinkhole
The gaping mouth of death where an alligator basks lazily
Stirring centuries in the silver swirl of his tail
Echoes outward from the beginning of time.

And your eyes begin to open widely
(Before now you have just been sleepwalking)
To the soft reflection of white wispy clouds
To the unbounded blue black of time, the sky
To the slow bend of emerald palms in the breeze
To the white flutter of egret wings rising up and over
Disappearing into the opacity of the jungle.

So the afternoon wanes in overwhelming branches
Colors blending delicately into mountains of azure
Lilac, plum, auburn, cherry, salmon
Whispering to you “Hold on to this moment”
Reverberating in the smooth glaze of reflections
(The first colors you have ever truly seen)
Dripping from the dusky tropical Florida sky
Melting into the expanding darkness of the night.