The palm trees

Under the palm trees
I sit
Just be there
as I could be anywhere else

But it’s different
It’s the heat, the mosquitos
the humidity

and the swaying green leaves
hanging over my head
half dancing a lullaby
half threatening me

Not sure how I ended up here
perhaps I’m not even supposed to…

But why all this beauty then?
What was it meant for?
The answer seems so evident now:
To. Be. Admired.
By me? I don’t know
But in this mood
even the mosquitos I revere