The Shore of This Day

You walk on a path lined with palm fronds,

and mosquitoes swarm, but no, not yet—

once, before you stepped into a rainforest,

a cloud of mosquitoes rose in the clearing;

when the cloud dissipated, you headed

to a temple where you climbed the steps,

and, reaching the pinnacle, surveying

a canopy of ceiba trees, saw other temples

overrun by vegetation. That night, noises

in the rainforest were raspings on guiros—

you saw mosquitoes swarm a bloated

body floating on a lake; and, in the morning,

when you walked out of that rainforest,

bitten alive, you walked out of a past life.

In the coos of this morning’s white-winged dove,

sounds of howler monkeys reach

the shore of this day: you step onto an island,

walk on a path lined with palm fronds.