i.
roosters
at midnight.
ii.
a downpour before dawn
wakes me to realize the tent
was already attempting to puddle
iii.
barefoot and slick with rain,
a slimy rock--no,
a toad.
iv.
a long walk across
volcanic flows, tidepools
rust-brown, copper-green
v.
the crabs are so fast
that I first I mistake
frogs for them
vi.
particular ripples of orange lichen
trace in light circles
bubbles of dark stone
vii.
pink lichen paints
the stark steep channels
where water sprays and burbles
into ponds, waterfalls, wells;
I step as close as I dare,
wave-watch, then closer;
a large wave forms
my crouched shape in foam
just after retreat