Christmas Island Frigatebird

The broad lapels of his wings

t i l t g l i d e s o a r

polishing the ripples of parquetry.

He dances a slow zephyr waltz 

in the luffs and ruffles 

of the warm tropical wind.

His red gular is puffed

bow-tie proud,

and he swings a graceful crescent 

on the waft and current.

Dipping low, he swoops,

scoops a flying fish 

out of water 

and gulps mid-air his dancing feast.

Tuxedoed white chest

and pointed wingtips wide, 

he glistens in the sun’s chandelier. 

The papaya sunset 

shadows his form in valse,

and the equatorial music fades.