Curaçao, Prologue of Pietermaai

Here, legs, loathing daylight exertion, sit

watching the slow inch of a straggling cloud

drift across a lazuline sky--

follow the brooding glance of a chocolate

eyed bar girl scanning

the skiffs rainbow riding in on

the afternoon's returning tide

the faintest whiff

of a late evening thunder

heading our way--

time seeps through the indolent fissures

of the tourist's inveterate ache

for the novelty of a vigorless inhalation.

Life keeps to itself here, the need

for punctuality a skill rarely honed: no

one hurries, the sun-sedated pace

baked into the senses makes a meal

of idleness--a pan será soft-buttered

block of old Gouda shared

across a near ancient Douro Port.

Ken e Bujold

© 2022

Reviews

[John the Baptist]

Nothing like a Caribbean vacation to relax a tourist seeking peace. Got to like a place where no one hurries. Got stuck in traffic myself this afternoon. Could have used a lack of punctuality then.