Submarine Watch

In the corner of my eye
is a thick hedge of
yellow hibiscus and
three papaya trees
plump with golden ripe fruit.
Four graceful palm
climb
along the shoreline
watchful,
their fanlike fronds
bowing in the wind.
Where are they?
Perhaps they are lurking
beyond the horizon.
The common mynah would know.
Suddenly
it looms
at the mouth of Pearl Harbor
flanked
by a military police escort.
Gun metal gray,
tall and
sleek
resembling a jaquar.
A dozen men
stroking its fur,
lapping it up,
purring and content.