1
At Seaside Coqui
the Latin beat pounds
through the night,
penetrates the walls,
vibrates the shutters
closed tight against
the roosters’
all night crows.
 
2
Each day we drink
black espresso at the panaderia,
feast on fish empanadas and
moist plantains,
sip piña coladas
poured into coconut shells
and always oysters and
clams from pushcarts
that pack the streets
 
3
We cycle south on a two-lane road
ignored by horses tied to posts,
grazing goats and egrets lined up
on fences like targets in
carnival booths. We pedal
towards Los Cuevos, the scent
of cilantro mingles with
car fumes from souped-up Chevys
whose drivers twist their necks
to see gringos in neon
spandex and black Lycra shorts.
 
4
We tour Añasco Square
where Latin Santas sport
black beards and thick brows,
sit in red sleighs under swaying
palms and pose while locals
play dominoes, shoot pool and
whistle like the island mascot,                                     
ko-kee, ko-kee, ko-kee.

© by Norma Bernstock.
Used with the author’s permission.