Thunderhead brews
and bruises the bay. Muted
taxi honks waft through the windows.
Patois prayers in unison.
Bougainvillea, pamphlets, hat brims
flutter under a single rickety ceiling fan.
Coconut jellies, chewed sugar stalks
lie scattered on cracked tiles.
Someone hums and spits.
Bodies packed and pulsing in pews.
Sundew drips into cement,
clings sweet to foreheads, forearms.
Somewhere, the whisper of a salt crystal
from a gull’s feather: May it be so.