Return of the Native

All things must find their proper time,
So why is it that you have come so late?
                                                      - Mi Fu

The day rides in on hydroponic murmurings
             adrift expendable, teeming
                      w/a little rust discoloration around the edges
                               lit up in Chinese neon
& whatever else it takes to download the shop manual
under ideal conditions
             ever adrift in the commerce of light & shadow

I was thinking of reinventing
the Mariana Trench while strumming the
latitude & longitude of a crooked smile
             as though it might cure the common
yearning love leaves in its wake
                      as we're still learning the shape the sky
             takes inside jagged cumulus smoke rings of
haze & broken shadow wings that
rake the sand
                      testing the pulse of Spanish guitars
                               that sleep in the palm trees

I never but momentarily retain 
             a pretense of having walked this far
resisting like orchids in the rain
                       these defining moments
         gone as soon & trembling frail
                       beneath a pale blue-green silver
                                     eye-of-albacore sky