Landscapes pock like amanita muscaria, fly agaria the long-legged mushrooms, scarlet and foot-cloven and languages rage and quicken like seeds
Seated at the empty table bloated from unrequited intentions we refrain from embrasures
Your Garingau voice & throaty laugh ripple over our eyes Ha liya youn dabib? You ask: Where are we going?
from here, with Lighthouse Caye in sight on this sea of blighted corals beyond Seine Bight
where you were born as a footling-- inked though it became-- sole dark, Soul bright emerging from the long dive talismans training in your toothless mouth foretelling the deeper plunges
off Billy Hawk Caye at Solstice soulfully spearing our Sole--food without strife
And there is richer fare where we are going into the night Kaya.
~ Lin Ostler December 23. 2011 all rights reserved