Talauma (1)

Together they stood beneath the wide, heavy branches
Of the old tree
For scant protection from the rainstorm

Slashes of warm water ricocheted
Off the deep green, waxy leaves
That were like outstretched palms
Trying to cup a drink from the sky

With steam rising from the ground
And hanging thickly in the air
The heavy scent of the creamy white flowers

Strong perfume
Sweet and lulling them both
Into indolence

"Why is it that you can never find a taxi in the rain?"
He joked, water dripping down his cheeks
And into his mouth,
Where she kissed him
Interrupting his laughter

There were no taxis to be found for sure
In the middle of an island farm
Where they had walked for hours
Under bold sunlight and a cloudless sky

In this place, the sound of a motor was rare
Replaced by amphibian croaks
And flapping wings of insects and birds
So tiny they could be mistaken for insects

Time seemed to slow
They sipped fiery rum from small cups
And ate bananas that tasted like ice cream
They smelled the blossoms of the old tree
And walked toward it to see
If it still bore fruit

There they stood, trapped for a few moments,
While the clouds emptied their load
Filling the air with steam that would
Catch, then release,
That intense perfume

They would never forget that scent
But realized that they could not take it with them
For if you remove the flower from its stalk
It withers and browns
Some things must exist only as you
Know and feel them in that moment