(A tropical interlude)

It was like a cameo
carved in crystal time.
And I lay long,
sweating and supine,
in Hong Kong

Staring in a trance
staring with fixed eye
and immobile mind
at the lizard on the ceiling,
caught in mid dance.

Seeing no movement,
awaiting nothing,
inert as a thing,
a non-event.

But I was content,
with fellow feeling
for the gecko
on the ceiling

It was a cameo,
carved out of time.