for everything which is yes

Arbored zebu humps
layered our line of sight, long
as the spider’s strand.

Bodies like mature
eucalyptus trees; beauty
draped in thin cotton.

Four plastic burlap
sacks, packed with charcoal, balance
on a shouldered pole.

Under a straw hat,
a dark man drives a team of
zebu with a cane.

Choirs of sugar cane–
stalks yellow, leaves a pale green–
sing in the sun’s light.

The traveler’s palm
fans like the crested head of
the hoopoe in flight.

Two white egrets stand
in long, lime-green grass beneath
the erect, gray bole.