Natalie Bergen di Paolo
Beside the path, the tamarind still stands
Between the house and kitchen as before
When walls grew from these ruins.
Now they embrace
A house of arches and of stone.
Below the timeless terrace, gauzy mists
Glow pink with morning. Islands reappear
Across the channel. Scrub sleeps on
Soothed by the lapping sea.
Marina Cay is mute. Inside the reef
The yachts still drowse at their moorings.
The water birds awake.
The breeze begins.
The ancient tamarind beside the house
Trembles a little. A few leaves flutter down
Sprinkling the path to the kitchen.
Copyright © Natalie Bergen di Paolo