Now, I wish it to rain again.

I despise
The flags of convenience
I traded with
Among the islands
Where our palms
Floated on the tips
Of fern.

We were traders
Of beauty there,
All day
Our wordless coins
Reflected the sun
Of our faces.

Here, our palms
On the flags of fern
Were coins
Of the water.

– ph June, 2017, Algonquin Park

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