Autumn on Kauai
by Jennifer Lagier

Pele’s feisty roosters screech,
challenge the audacity of daybreak,
chase pompous Nene geese and timid doves.
Their crowing grates nerves, transform to dream demons.

Rising sun sizzles against palms, pines, hibiscus.
Blushing rain clouds float above scarlet ti trees,
monster philodendron, banana leaf jungle.
Swollen cumulus billow, suffused with tropical colors.

Blustery blue storms sweep ashore,
dump warm silver payload.
Battered plumeria revert to bare limbs,
autumn reflected in an absence of flowers.

Transported from arid California shores,
even the most austere succumb
to sensual saturation, perfumed head winds.
Brilliant, broken gardens let the soul blossom.

AUTHOR’S NOTE ON THE PHOTOGRAPH: The photo above was taken in October 2014 from the patio outside our condo. The photo of me below was taken at the same location.

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: I spend a week each year in Princeville, Kauai. While there, I bask in beauty, scribble poetry like a woman possessed.


ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Jennifer Lagier has published nine books of poetry as well as in a variety of literary magazines. Her latest book, Camille Vérité, was published by FutureCycle Press. She taught with California Poets in the Schools, co-edits the Homestead Review, maintains web sites for Homestead Review, Monterey Poetry Review, Ping Pong Literary Journal and misfitmagazine. She also helps coordinate monthly Monterey Bay Poetry Consortium Second Sunday readings. Visit her website at