Month: October 2015

  • ECUADOR POEMS: THE UPS AND DOWNS OF ECUADOR

    THE UPS AND DOWNS OF ECUADOR

    Agoutis and ant-eating armadillos,

    Anis and toucans and bronze parrots

    Are just a few exotic dwellers

    Found in Ecuador’s cloud forests.

    And if you ascend to the Andean highlands

    Cara cara and condors will soar overhead,

    Andean deer will graze in the grasslands,

    Alpine hare will lurk in the shade.

    Unique parama plants abound

    Giant rosettes and grasses above all.

    Downy and lidded leaves are found

    Protected from the wind’s assault.

    And all are steadily upward moving

    As earth’s climate continues warming.

  • ECUADOR POEMS: THE SPICE OF VARIETY

    THE SPICE OF VARIETY

    In Ecuador platanos are fed to the birds:

    Dozens of hummers, tanagers and such.

    In Ecuador mango juice is savored

    And passion fruit mousse, but not too much.

    Ecuadorians favor grass-fed beef,

    Sea bass, camarones and farm-pond trout.

    Yuca strips dipped in sugar are a treat.

    Espresso they will never do without.

    Ecuador is home to many climates,

    Subtropical and temperate and more,

    Which Andean cloud forests generate:

    It all depends on how far up you go.

    So if you’re feeling tired of deja vu,

    Ecuador is the perfect place for you.

  • ECUADOR POEMS: OUR PLANETARY PROBLEM

    OUR PLANETARY PROBLEM

    Our cabana overlooks an Andean

    Valley lightly flecked with clouds

    That keep these jungle forests green.

    Before me hangs a feeder used by crowds

    Of hummingbirds of every stripe and hue:

    Tawny, black and white, scarlet or teal.

    But this is an aerial warfare view

    Far from a peaceful bucolic scene.

    These winged warriors swoop and dart

    At any color but their own,

    Briefly sip with kindred cohorts

    Then shoot the alien flyers down.

    Who’s unlike me must be my foe:

    A rule that every earthling knows.

  • ECUADOR POEMS: AT THE RIO COSANGA

    AT THE RIO COSANGA

    We left our San Isidro cabanas

    And stopped at the bridge on the Rio Cosanga

    To search for the elusive yellow duck

    For which we were not to be in luck.

    However, blue swallows sat on a rail

    Preening and flipping their wings and tails,

    Then dipping and swooping in widening arcs

    Snapping up insects above the rocks

    Where the river rushed in a foaming flood

    Fed by the weeping clouds above.