Jack Newton
15 April 2018
A cloud split in two —
the rift allowed a
blue river of sky to flow
across the parched bonewhite landscape;
The coconut-palms stood upright again
and the crackled salty seaweed turned
moist and returned to the water –
A metal Medalla cap washed
free of its sandy coat and put on
a rusty one instead –
The frigate-birds came too, now that the
fish were on their way home to the
lagoon
where manatees used to live out their jolly lives
but these days were forced through the
mangrove canal and into the land
…For a moment,
everything was as it was
but after a time the
rift closed again and the clouds came
back together, leaving only the pebbles
and cigarettes strewn over the beach,
and a whispering so faint
that even the oldest and
wisest could not tell
whether it was just the
wind, or the ghost of
waves crashing on the shore
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