Lamppost # 12

Orange wing parrots occupy the golden apple trees in flocks,

clock the time as late afternoon.

Soon Carl returns from his garden,

warden of recalcitrant cush cush, dasheen and yams.

I am in my daughter's yard watching the evening unfold.

Bold fruit bats swoop for ripe bananas and mangoes.

Tangles of sweet leaf vine with fuscia blooms climb the avocado tree,

peewah spills red fruit, adds to the rush of colors amid the green

seen by all who pass: calathea, anthurium, bougainvillea, 

heliconia, orchid, croton and rose.

Close by, tanagers, thrushes, bananaquits and bell bird

spread evening song along with toucans' one- note chant.

Lanterns shine the pink and red of tall Hawaiian torches,

catch last vestiges of light as sun drops behind Morne Bleu Range.

Change descends quickly from day to night in the tropics,

marks the tallest trees to stand as sentinel protectors in the dark:

pommerac, rambutan, papaya and jamoon.

Moon's sliver sets, this month's second new moon,

attunes me to the yard's unambiguous heliograph of diversity, rich,

which sustains all life within its bounds and gives me strict instruction.

Written in the rain forest of Trinidad in my daughter's yard for open link Monday on Imaginary Gardens with Real Toads. Her address is Lamppost # 12 in her village. The format of linked rhyme was suggested by Hedgewitch and brought back by Margaret on Jan. 20. It rhymes the first word of each line with the last word of the previous line.