The moonlight,silvery,garnishing the sand
and
I
working at the lime pit
hands caked white,
a negative in a night of negatives and
wondering about the
what if's and if I might
flow,
like the lime in the kilns flow,
hot and steam through a tropical dream.

Breakfast,
an ordeal of a meal when my
mind
already full
can take no more.
I want to be under the moonlight
on the silvery sand
on a tropical shore.
Is that
too much to ask?