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