Cuba
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Sketches of Cuba: A Poem for My Mother, Who Was Born in Cuba, Left Before World War II, and Never Returned
I came to Cuba and looked to the sky. I knew I wouldn’t sense your presence in the clouds – Pallid and staid, they’d never contain your sparkle. But I looked anyway, Hoping to catch you Like I sometimes imagine… Continue reading
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Sketches of Cuba: The Salsa Lesson
Around me loose hips sink dips I’m Chipper and game but nearly lame Excuse me as the beat outfleets my feet. . Frame me in your Canon fire Preserve my cherry cheeks and sweaty Streaks before I go for a… Continue reading
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Sketches of Cuba: Havana
Iron scrollwork, ironed schoolkids, Holey roads, holy robes Of white on acolytes. . Young pioneers plant verdant crowns on stately shells, Shade older ones who stack their fates on savory plates Of ropa vieja served with seasoned grace. . Jazzed-up… Continue reading
It Could Be Verse 