Puna Coast.
One hawk overhead.
An arrow, a king.
And to my left—the ocean.
Cobalt surging. All muscle.
I move along the seam
of ocher soil and azure silk.
Heart in front, antenna up,
trusting something to
take on the dare.
Here I am. Ready.
The red road threads beneath
the green cathedral. Hot flowers
hold their tongues. And wait.
