Swooped
the pelican
I-level me four hundred feet above
the sea, the tears of lava ex-
ploded up
land made
millions of years before
I ran up Peter Island
named for a slaver long before
its cratonic keel
floated
me like a god
in the clouds above green blue
water waves me near back I hang
planted
feet keep
me from falling
through air winging its
pelican passing time with
distance
it gets
smaller still
there, is it a dot or am
I vanish-
ing?