The heat and what the air
holds you with, moisture
on the skin. I cannot
complain. The smell of lime
in everything, the market,
the taxi, the small cocinas.
And, yes, sun. That’s what
we’ve come for. The breeze
which moves the flowers
on their slender stems.
A thousand years the waves
have broken on this shore.
Ten thousand years. We’ve got
all we can do to sit here
waiting for the moon to rise,
waiting for the first faint stars.
Photo By: laveta’s fragments
