Coconut Plucker

Coconut plucker

The moon pulled away in the twilight
From the coconut trees and the church in the background
And lifted to be the centerpiece of the horizon.
And a few days before Christmas, you could
See a lonely man, with a razor-sharp knife
In his midst, climbing in frog-like leaps
To the pinnacle of a coconut tree. It was
His last tree, of a long day’s toil. His partially sun-burnt
Face was in stark contrast to the demeanor
Inside – it had been a cool December day. As he collected
Bunches of coconuts together, he looked up and saw
The moon pouring out moonbeams, evanescing the weariness
Of a long day’s span. He slowly took one coconut
And gashed it and gulped down a little refreshment
As he looked at the bewitching moon one more time.
Here you could see a pauper, redeeming
His life with a day wage, healing to a dose of amnesia
From the enchanting moon. Then he walks back home
Looking up to see his guardian angel
In the sky, shining a path, to where he will
Rest for the night. A coconut-plucker during the day
And toddy-drinker by night, who pays penance
For his fringe heritage, grafting coconut trees,
Knowing atonement, is just a lowly day’s wage
And a coconut shell serving toddy, to his thirst-soaked lips.

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