she sells goat's cheese. not my favorite
plying the beach ramada to ramada
at times she sits with me
lowering the basket from her head
her clothes are worn, patched
i roll eggs, beans, rice into a tortilla
hand it away, she always accepts
then throwing her arm over the chair
she begins the badinage
i understand little sometimes
others, far too much of humanities plight
i too throw my arm over the chair
rattle slowly in my aspiring spanish
making verbal notes of words
similar in english and spanish
she teaches verbs, vernacular
we share more than just language
if you would stand afar
you would think us old friends
lost in the chatter of complaints
news, reminiscing, and aren't we
the same expressions, gestures
friends in small talk
sharing a similar nature
delivering the points quite well
it is a beautiful day
we are happy to be alive
sharing breakfast, languages
she returns to her vending
i to the waves rolling in
this is what i need, not poetry readings


         San Blas   91