Las Calles cobalt blue brick
are concentric a path
leading to a purpose,
The reason you flew
Twelve hours to see them.

There are no vacant corners.
All societies fill the sidewalk
with their colorful
bangles, pottery,
flowered hats that always
has the aroma of an island
hand-carved pieces of memories.

We drink from parrot color glasses.
exotic juices,
plated goodies,
and the American ordinary
in a small cafe.
Language fills the air,
sounding confused
and excited more somone calls.

We catch a tram back
to the hotel. There is a zealous drinker
on the bus, singing something for his baby
Glossy bags are as good as gold
A keepsake for another time.

The next morning, snorkeling in the azure
Caribbean waters. On the coral reef
exotic fish are smears of paint
some are rocks from
the moon.

We drink rum and sway
in the island light
watch dolphins play catch,
and plan for one more day
then, home.

Las Calles paved in cobalt blue brick