The Treasures of ‘Ulu by doug bond
She has promised you medicine, her best silk, and the treasures of
breadfruit, the one she calls ‘Ulu. All types of tricks and sorceries.
It is close, just the other side of your skinny island. Tonight go to
the pool house, you will find her there.
Stare well into your reflection, the small portal window. Light the
rope end, pull shirt loose, cross arms, listen. You have followed her
instructions and picked the ripest globe from the tree, the one she
said with white sap on the skin. The long pole and hook has lifted it
free. Hold the curved blade sharp on your hands. Strike at the bone.
Light cracks the pool house, and you find her there wrapped in an
aquamarine tapestry, her bare legs folded under float lines, waiting
with handfuls of small cut jewels and feathered red scarves. The cone
lights ghosting a blue and green fog split the far wall with candle
The wind tricks the lock shut. The hourglass is turned. Your feet
touch together and you hold them.
Bells on the fishing boats flail in the harbor, and the causeway beams
white from the signal light tower. Feel the distance and opening of
its arc to the sea, beyond the outer bar, where unseen ships slip
further into black.