Sunday, February 28, 2016

Antigua Afternoon

I sit on the balcony, listening to the birds chirp in the courtyard gardens below.  
I sip mint tea and nibble at dried almonds, peanuts and succulent raisins.
I watch ants scurry in a line across the linoleum tile deck
while my lavanderia waves in the afternoon breeze like flags on a line
and Dvořák wafts in the quiet cool air.

As always, my fears unfounded 
and I surrender to The Muse.  
Her divine colonial empire
slowly unfurling before me
as I give form to blank verse
and shape to idea.

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