When You were Here Nanumea Island, Central Pacific, September 6, 1842 Morning sun lingered in the lagoon      Replacing afternoon for three days           Replacing darkness until midnight                Replacing the cock's crow at dawn Coconuts climbed down the trees on the backs of lizards      And gave themselves to the crabs and me           And gave themselves to thirsty Tongans                And gave themselves to the sea at night Tapa cloth leapt out to sea one playful day      And made the fish prettier           And made the dolphins dance upright                And made the fishermen paddle hard to catch it Clouds wrapped my head for sleep      And sailed low on the canoes for twelve days           And lifted lovers off their sleeping mats at night                And cast about with fog making islets disappear Reef came ashore on legs one night      And cut lumber for a new house           And asked the men to mend their nets                And took some crabs home Sunset came to me in a dress one evening      And gave me red lips softer than birds           And showed me orange smoke that soothed the eyes                And thickened me with desire Missionary pierced the horizon one day in a ship      And came ashore in a chair           And gave himself to the people                And lifted lovers off their sleeping mats at night Warrior came ashore one night and took you away      Slamming my heart with thunder           Drenching my fire with cloudburst                Replacing the morning sun with darkness