***
Children’s voices rise as the rain falls on this low season,
Where the pitter-patter meets the crash from high tide.
4 degrees south of the Equator watching the sun fight her way through wet clouds,
A black cup of below average coffee by my side. . . on holiday.
***
Coconuts, a camel, peddlers spread out along the beach,
Pounding waves flex with restraint while onlookers whisper in awe.
Mosquito nets cover bunk-beds, a transparent fort for two boys,
Tiredness weighing bodies down, heavy eyelids, asleep during dinner. . . exhaustion.
***
Family walks to the sea with intention of adventure and discovery,
People pop out of resorts like moray eels in search of food in an Indian Oceanic smorgasbord.
Crabs, oysters, symbiotic relationships, delighted by eels feeding off the dead.
White sands, tide pools, palm fronds, and red coral. . . God’s Creation magnified.
***
Indulgence caked in luxury, lounging by the pool while the tide rolls in,
Serenity is hounded by disturbing winds revealing a truth in nature.
Huts of mud surround excessive consumption for the checked in privileged,
Two sides of symbiosis seem strained yet strangely coexist. . . unbalanced.
***
A dollar a day is sought after to sustain locals around.
A dollar wouldn’t even buy one drink for those in the compound. . . ah, holiday.
nehrely there 