los pelicanos glide and soar

like pterodactyls

without the screeching—

twin sentinels roosting on our roof

and mi amor says she loves them

like guardians

protecting our hut from banditos

from other turistas, from other chaise loungers

los pelicanos on guard or

fishing—

take offs and dive bomb splashes

the only sound with lapping water

and mi amor says she loves them

likes the way they eat

protecting our water from fishes

from creatures that might touch her legs in our waters

los pelicanos with yellow eyes

half blind from fierce salt water

entries—

and mi amor says she’s sad for them

sad that their lives are short

how will they fly when they’re blind?

how will they fish when they’re blind?