In the corner of my eye
is a thick hedge of yellow hibiscus and
three papaya trees
plump
with golden ripe fruit.
Four graceful palm climb
along the shoreline
watchful,
their fanlike fronds
bowing in the wind.
Where are they?
Perhaps they are lurking
beyond the horizon.
The common myna would know.
Suddenly it looms
at the mouth of Pearl Harbor
flanked
by a military police escort.
Gun metal gray, tall
and sleek,
resembling a jaguar.
A dozen men stroking it's fur
lapping it up
purring and content.
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