Some places feel ancient
because they don’t notice you.
Standing at the base of this kapok,
scale stops working.
The forest doesn’t recede.
You do.
Underground taught me
that depth isn’t about going down.
It’s about learning how small you are
without disappearing.
How to listen
without needing an answer back.
Egg sandwich from a bucket, free.
5 a.m. howlers wind the trees.
One-handed grab of black caiman.
Thatch roofs – craft by no layman.
Night wasps offer a painful treat.
Bark camouflaged by the heat.
Wandering spider, fist-sized, near.
So many species counted here.
Spiked palms. Armored millipede.
Red-faced monkeys raining seed.
Walking stick. Fresh mango peel.
Skin nicked open – slow to heal.
Piranha bites. Pink dolphin glide.
Shutters close as muck boots slide.
Laughter sparked by small eel shock.
Hundred meals from fish and stock.
Mosquito hands, polka-dot skin.
Golden-hour boat ride – settle in.
Mildew stitched into every seam.
Wet tambos framed with chainsaw beams.
Vipers. Cane toad toxin trace.
Sacred kapok – locked in place.
Anteater laid out on the dock.
Meals the only reason for a clock.
Macaws arguing over hue.
Squirrel monkeys checking you.
Cribo tail around my throat.
Rising water. Shanties float.
Toilets with no seats. Street meat smoke.
Mystery grills – still ate, still spoke.
River sink. Soap. Wash your hands.
No sanitizer? Don’t make plans.
Fluffy murder hawk – young, bold.
Guts in knots I couldn’t hold.
Renowned minds. Local sweat.
Too many problems left unmet.
Wet sheets. Old wood. Molded nets.
Open yard – no place for pets.
Filet the cat in sunlight sprawled.
Below, a floor that eats the small.
Plastic bottles – borrowed years.
Collected wild, no system clears.
Tourists come in every shape.
Demons don’t need ports to escape.
Volunteers – no single creed.
Working where the need exceeds.
Poachers slipping farther in.
Ancient warnings dressed as sin.
A breeze arrives. The insects thin.
Some stay to fight.
But how to win?
