Daily Poem

by Gerhardt Michael

Island Song

Morning light unshackled
the solid phalanx of shadows,
that had imprisoned the night
for hours.

Ships steamed on the horizon
splitting the waves
and firing columns of ripples
to ravish the long winding beach.

The natives looked on curiously
as fishermen with steely bravado
rowed their canoes into the bay,
churning the water
into foam and jostling bubbles.

Tourists with miniature cameras
harvested the scene,
capturing moments
they hoped would last a lifetime.

The broken calabash -
Life's open wound - lay buried
amidst the citadel
of saltwort and salpiglossis.

And later, as evening stooped
to join the throng,
night, the guardian of stolen secrets,
filled the humid sky
with an armada of living stars.