The waves’ white meringue points,
the internet drifting in and out,
should have alerted us, but
the schedule crisp as a cloudless sky,
the wizardry of computer navigation,
lulled our doubts to sleep.
We woke as our ship sailed toward
Costa Maya, toward a trip to
the ruins of Kohunlich.
The Mayas predicted solar eclipses.
Created a calendar to mark their days.
Built pyramids we hoped to brave.
Waves slap our cruise chip, till it stops
like a snapshot. We halt breakfast. Listen
to the captain:
The wind is unusually
strong. It could crack the ship, flip
the tourists into swells. We can’t land
at Costa Maya. We slink toward Miami
as Kukulkan* arches his serpent body
waves his sea-green wings. Smirks.
*Kulkulkan was the Maya creator god and the god of wind, storms, and life.
