Pink Morning with Slight Chance of Hurricane

Mistral Pampero Sirocco
These are names of the winds
Chinook Diablo Westerly
Don Juan de Marco keeps these names in his pocket

Kolo-āpu‘upu‘u blows mist down the mountain
Constellations brilliant overhead
Still you feel it on your skin

Kalāhuipa‘a awakened us this morning
Boulders skidding in the breeze
Trees dueling their branches whipping like swords
Don Diego among the palms

How do those pink clouds survive this force?
As I watch their lipstick colors even and still
Oblivious lizards slap at flies with their tongues
Orchids push out another spike of flowers

The world will not blow away after all
The dogs are quiet
Here the air does not howl, here peace will find us