Ricantations

Hurricane María, wheeling over the sea,
a day away from upending and crushing cars,
prying roofs, plucking up electrical poles,
cracking trees to the stub,
flooding plantain fields of Yabucoa.

Our avocado trees, roots rumbling,
threw down their green pears all at once,
so that when they were broken and uptorn,
their stones would tap into soil.

Blue macaws flew loudly up-mountain;
unprepared for what came, we bunkered down.

At the storm’s transit from tropical to Cat 5,
I saw through louvered bedroom window,
an enormous old iguana, five or six feet
from nose to tail. He sat at the top corner
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