In this green place of shattered light,
Long beaches bounded by cobalt seas.
land of the swimsuit,
souvenir vendor, heated sands.
I can see you, in that cold place,
working at your desk, next to a sunny window.
Your civil self, dedicated to chilly studies.
You are here, wall to wall in Puerto Plata,
Amidst the strong split shadows,
Tiled halls and all-inclusive drinks.
You come, between sounds of megaphones,
noisy rapid-fire Spanish,
hurled into the tropical evening,
adventure here never stops,
except in the very early morning,
when the birds sing
and the wind bends the palms.
Kathleen C. Johnson lives on the shores of Lake Superior and has been published in multiple small presses. Poetry is the driving force of her life. She believes poetry speaks and uncoils the mysteries we are all living and that it can allow us to see them and name them.