Toucan Nest

Calls of Birds We Cannot See

49 Calls of Birds We Cannot See Sunlight through red veins of coleus. Your palm dawns on me. Corrugated hailstorms— metal roof, earthquake of ten-pound iguanas. 50 Shy thicket bird, ancient tinamu steps out among newcomers. Honor flows both ways. Three agouti bow to the rushing stream. Far cries of howler monkeys turn our heads. 51 Towering stand— giant bamboo tonks and groans, arthritic pirate ship overladen with lost dreams, bones. Birds we most desire se vuelve, se fué. 52 Tiny black frog Ramón delicately sets on a stump—bright green markings, our innocence. Snakes, bats, a lost fanny pack, zipping heights, steep downhill hike, the dead sure bite of all we fear. 53 Prim British laydee with perfect posture, wizened pair of marimba players, six mallets bouncing out “El Rancho Grande.” The guitarist’s wink. A widow, this dancer. Her vow never to sit out another baile. ...