Fritillary

Near the morning glories,
with heat rising in the glare,
where we sometimes tarry
indolently on our island
shores and innocence
floats ghostlike in the air,
lingering as lovers do
on the sand dune fence,
idling in the afternoon’s
lob of volley and return,
frittering away our youth
on tan lines and sunburn,
endless vision and rebirth,
with such lissome beauties
as we might turn out
to be strewn around
the earth and sunning,
we know for sure
that absolutely nothing
but blossoms
and the night
are coming.

November 6th, 2021
Kaiholu