Turks & Caicos

I’ve lost my pen and in the act I’ve lost my way.

Was it deliberate not daring to record this strangest day?

Pure beach. Long walk as sought, but sudden end—

view through the dangerous coraled grief-waves blocked beyond earth’s bend.

Turn back? Fix frigate birds in the white sky?

Push on, passing perhaps some warrior test while the tide’s high?

Frost-like I’m caught before each green starred choice.

Drown all regrets. —I hear you. Still, which is Love’s voice?