1. The Hummingbird

 

 

Each morning a man with a camera waits

beside the bougainvillea

for the hummingbird’s visit.

 

Day after day at this hour he waits

for the moment he means to trap

under glass or sell to magazines.

 

Such patience, says the poet

who returns each day to a few bare lines

scratched across a field of white.

 

Smallest things are often finest.

 

 

 

 

2. Egret with Cowpat

 

 

Bull standing in field with egret

–a miracle of white

nourished on maggots in manure.

 

When the bull is reproduced in iron

for tourists in the market

an iconic egret of bone completes the tableau.

 

 

 

 

3. Santiago’s Polar Bears

 

 

Nose to tail over red tile roofs

in a painting at the municipal office

 

Leaping house to house like icebergs

on a mural above the bustling street

 

Santiago de Cuba’s polar bears gleam

like the faces of northern tourists

 

 

 

 

4. The Mayan Monuments of Bacanao

 

 

They are hollow replicas

standing in niches of coral

carved out by ancient tides.

 

God of the sea–Dios de la mar–

woman with child, a tiara of skulls

her badge of motherhood.

 

The groundsman points out, in Spanish,

blooming bougainvillea, aromatic aloe,

bees that live in the honey-combed cliffs

 

and here, a drummer boy with face caved in

by local children who like to throw

the coral that covers the floor of the cave.

 

 

 

 

5. After Hours at the Swim-up Bar

 

 

When at dusk the barman closes up

and heads for the long road home

swallows move in quick,

sipping up spills,

picking straws from the floor

for nests in the rafters.

They’re frisky as keg-fed frat boys

at finding under the spigot

a glass of flat beer.

 

 

 

 

6. Harvesting Coconut

 

 

Against the ruined sea wall red flowers bloom.

Hummingbirds sup at the nectar, dart

out of sight at the thump of one heavy foot.

 

With a long hooked branch, the muscular

groundsman reaches skyward, brings down from the palm

swollen fruit that–leap away!–drums the ground.

 

Quick now, machete carves green skin, white flesh,

and with a stroke that could split a skull

cleaves the rough fruit.

 

Water drunk off, the long blade pries from shell

two fibrous white hemispheres of flesh

to eat on the trail.

 

 


 

7. Among the Offerings at El Cobre

 

 

Sometime after he made his prayer

to nada who art in nada

Hemingway came here to honor the Virgin

with the gift of his Nobel medal.

 

Today, at Our Lady’s cathedral

pilgrims ask after the old man’s gift.

Not here with other tributes, we learn.

 

It is locked away in a safe

like a splinter of the Holy Cross.

 

 

 

 

8. Beachfront Ruins

 

 

The beachfront discotheque’s in ruins now

–last year’s hurricane’s first landfall.

I image salsa music in the night

drums so loud dancers pay no heed

to rising wind and crashing waves.

As when a band’s pyrotechnic show

sets rafters afire and guts the hall

I imagine a sudden change of mood

from ecstasy to wonder, confusion

to panic as slowly truth permeates

the dancers’ addled minds.

Abandoned now not to be rebuilt

so close to shore its walls still tremble

with the echo of music or storm

the lightning strike of being young.

 

 

 

 

 

 



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