Tumbling down the triumph of the stairs,

Outshone by dozens of flamboyants

And even by the plastic chairs

That validate our subtle fashion sense,


Overshadowed by the bas relief

Of our designer’s splashy hand,

Discreetly floats a tiny leaf,

Pink as her imported sand,


Transparent as the coral bay

And weathered with the water’s stains,

Held up to the enormity of the day

To justify our decorator’s pains.


Anse des Coyes, St. Barth’s May 20th, 1995