ISLANDS’ UNDERSIDES

The first day, the first after first days in so many cities these last months, each firsts.  As is second nature to my arrivals to the island these last three years, I fly at dawn.  The island heat revs.  There is so much water and the desire to break into it is broken into.  One black-pebbled shore gives way to a first swim of summer.  In anticipation – of touching sea bottom, of ideas planted in the island in the island’s idea in undersides of islands – there is one moment alone.  Look at us now.