The ararajuba
dressed in sun and jungle green
hops from a branch and settles
to the shock of all the tourists
on the table where their sumptuous
breakfast still remains.
Utterly at ease
he picks and pecks slices
of mango and papaya
intended only for the hotel guests.
Even among saucers plates teapots
cups utensils napkins
the ararajuba is no intruder.
He is the royal host himself
in the gold of a Marajó morning
Cabral, Astrid. “At the Pousada of Flamingos.” Trans. Alexis Levitin. Cage. Austin: Host Publications, 2008. p. 27.
