THE EXTINCTION
In the islands
rain drops
cascade over the hills
blanketing the landscape in
a blueish grey mist,
the solemn trees
awake now.
The flash
of lightning,
crack of thunder,
the endless tearing
of the sky,
monotony of water
dripping from the eaves
lavishes the exterior
surface of the stone house,
it hums on the galvanized roof
gurgles into gutters-
melancholy thoughts
in the solitude
of a wet Sunday afternoon.
A day, the hottest
on record in parts
of the country,
firefighters battle fires
from Oregon to California,
record droughts imperil
farmers crops,
salmon die
in the Sacramento
and Klamath rivers.
The American West
is dying
and I am lost
in this abyss
of rain water
and planetary imbalance.
GAZING BEYOND
The mahogany tree
just after sunset
light hanging
like a gold thread
west of west,
a long drift
of pink orange clouds
over the blue horizon.
Thrushes high up
in branches unseen
sing and whistle,
twilight music echoes
in the shadows.
A gust of wind,
the leaves shiver
the sound haunting,
a message
from beyond
the other side
of knowing.
In Spring
this ancient tree
sheds for weeks,
bare branches
in a gnarled
calligraphy
ink the sky.
Mahogany fruit pods
crack, releasing
winged seeds that
twirl and spiral
to earth thirsting
for water.
Sunlight and rain,
elements grained
in wood,
a century of
deep furrowed bark
holding it all
with roots in the
other world below,
and above a sea of stars
telling its story.
Filippo Cassinelli is a business owner from the island of St. Thomas.
