In just the way it crops the water 

And crenellates the sand,

The wind waves palm trees at their border 

To make a little Yucatán


When I close my eyes to see the world

Reflected as I try to tan,

While on my lids the sea is pearled 

And flickered like a ceiling fan


Or the drawing you design

To flip as quickly as you can

To make a movie from a pencil line

Where a tiny stick becomes a man:


So to spot this coruscation 

I might as well be blind,

Exploring as I can this coral nation

Only in my mind.



We assume the retina repeats 

Only what the eyesight greets,

Making color complimentary

To countries we can see;

But here, on waking from a dream,

A tree is outlined by a stream:

Without opening my eyes,

I catch nerve ends by surprise,

The artificially created scene

On the eyelids' movie screen,

No help contributed by light

In mocking up this second sight,

Optics manufactured by the mind

(Nocturnal novels for the blind):

So who says observation is the goal

Of the universal soul — 

Vision may be just the start

Of seeing's dazzling part.


March, 1997

Playa del Carmen, Quintana Roo, Mexico

Originally called PLAYA