Las Calles are paved in cobalt blue

walks in circles leads to a purpose,

the reason you flew twelve hours.

There are no vacant corners.

All races of societies

fill the sidewalk with their colorful articles,

pottery,

hand carved pieces

of memories.

In the café, we drink in parrot color glasses

and juices.

Plated goodies, exotic fruits –the American ordinary.

Languages spew the air sounding confused

and excited.

We catch a tram back to the hotel

glossy bags are good as gold

and in each a treasure.

Bangles or a squirrely local art painting.

Next morning, we go snorkeling in azure

blue Caribbean waters

like moon rocks.

Exotic fish in the corals

of moon rock. We drink

rum and sway

in the sun, watch a dolphin drift,

planning for tomorrow.