Plane Crash

Plane Crash

Wind was drifting through the palm-fringed trees:
the sigh of fronds filled the air till they broke,
scattering a cascade of emerald and auburn to the sand.
Skies were decorated—alive with black and ivory birds
that dove to the water like kamikaze fighter jets.
Fire from the West glided past the palms: an orange streak
in a nose-dive like the seagulls, but crashing too hard
with a middle-eastern tsunami splash. Tremendous noise
swells and ebbs with the tide, soon forgotten;
wind returns, slipping through the palm-fringed trees,
and brief Hell on Earth is paradise once more.