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The big island
The cocks of the island crow their guts out
Unseen hens coo
Snipers in the misty morning sun
His ocean pays no attention
Near dead sailors dream behind wooden louvers
Her rocks are shaped by freshness and the salt
Breakfast is a Hmong spring roll
If you could have only felt the breath
You would have eaten
Read and died and never left
Rds
The second
The cocks of the island crow their guts out
Unseen hens coo
Snipers in the misty morning sun
His ocean pays no attention
Near dead sailors dream behind wooden louvers
Her rocks are shaped by freshness and the salt
Breakfast is a Hmong spring roll
If you could have only felt the breath
You would have eaten
Read and died and never left
Rds
The second