Growing Up in the Tropics
by Michael Doyle

Across the tropics, in early morning,
We awaken sleepless, feeling the sun
Shining like a dream

Be it Cuba, Hawaii, or the Philippines
The breeze blows by coolly
Turning the wind vanes slowly 

Dragonflies and butterflies float
On mica wings or multi-colors that ride
On that breeze or rest on the reeds

The colored skies awaken as we yawn
Welcoming another sleepy day
Slack-eyed and drowsy, waiting to see

What this new day might yet bring
A moment's rain followed by sunshine
Living on the notorious island time

The good sun shines onto the fields
Of pineapple, sugar cane, rice paddies
Bringing nourishment to us all

The instinct to hit the beach
Fits the slow heat like an answer
Waves and tropical fish call to us

And we, as children, turned to each other
In the ripe air of summer all year long
A peaceful bliss called our names

We were the children raised by the tropics
Happily glazed into that slowness
Of knowing there was happiness enough for all

(c) June 4, 2023   Michael Doyle
All Rights Reserved