fun

The Interior of my Not Yet

by Diego Santiago

I was in the rain forest yesterday,
The interior of the not yet
For me, anyway.
My Embera guide had been there many times,
Barefoot and indifferent to dangers that I dress for.
My wife, our daughter, the indigenous host, and myself-
All searching
In a green ozone inflated bubble
That has the look and the sound of the beginning of things,
and once was.

A waterfall that had not yet found plastic cups or joined the flow of man
Spewed from a slit in granite lips-
Its water white as mother’s milk
Sluiced under vines that hung from overhead and over rocks
that once glowed red
To a pond below,
where it stopped to gather itself
And let the animals of the forest have a last drink
Before it became streams and rivers
And went outside.

An Ocelot, surprised by my daughter’s eagerness to climb the heights,
Found a shadow to join its spots
And left the sun to shine on faces.

Will I go back tomorrow and take my shoes off?