THE ISLAND
Blue as the zen of reflection
Sky mimics emeralds ocean
Ripples of dust as walls crumble
And new words like bricks tumble
Because now, everyone sees a tree
And another one, clear as can be
A person, an inhabitant hand waves
Waves to greetings of surprise
Shimmering on the waters, moonrise
This is the Island of Retirement
Banana fronds sway in contentment
As shadows settle in coolness
Ixora blossoms retain openness
THE ISLAND © gillena cox 2016
Sunday Mini-Challenge: Islands