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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