I feel your
saliva dripping onto my big toe
as you lean
up against me and belch.
I rub your
neck,
massage
behind your ears
staring at
the Ko'olau Mountains
breathing
in the pink Plumeria blossoms
as we both
listen to the caw, caw, caw,
of Petey
the Peacock
perched on
the neighbor's roof.
Thursdays
are special
in our datebook.
Me
climbing
ladders,
shaving
coconut palms with my chainsaw
trimming
the Be-Still bushes,
training
them into a hedge.
You
inspecting
the heap
smelling
the fallen coconuts
and then
chasing the cooing doves
feasting on
your forgotten dinner.
Me
stuffing green
bins with yard waste.
You
ears back
standing on
the wall behind the fence
as the
giant yellow truck
swallows
their contents and burps,
farting
around the bend.
We fit
you and me.
You
sniffing and
alert.
Me
smearing citronella
leaves
on my arms,
your butt, and our legs
shielding
us from the mosquitos at dusk,
while relaxing
at the fire pit,
listening
to KCCN Hawaiian 105.9.
Both of us,
still
frisky
unleashed
in
paradise.
