We pocket the sugar from the coffee barSkip to next paragraph
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and each morning pour
three packets onto a saucer,
balance it on the porch rail
between knots of bougainvillea.
Then we eat breakfast
and watch voluptuous clouds
saunter out above the islands.
The bananaquits appear out of nowhere,
black-caped and cowled, their bellies
yellow as their namesakes.
They cling to the china lip, peck twice
and then vanish in a flurry of wings.
What the birds spill, the geckos
feast upon on the floor beneath.
For the better part of an hour
we regard their comings and goings,
the bananaquits as skittish
as the lizards are deliberate.
Such is our morning, scarcely more,
and we think it Eden -
proof (if proof were needed)
how far we are from home.