Sectioned off teal parallels powder blue skies
Its translucence speaks softly in turning waves
A Tequesta woman’s spirit swirls in gentle wind
Pressing her breath against the high rise condos that dot the shoreline
Her feet bounce lightly off the endless concrete plains
She approaches the Everglades and stops short
She’s gone too far for her taste.
She prefers inlets and rivers that drop off into the Chequesta
Here, she oversees ancient sacred places that support skyscrapers and condos
She lends grace to beauties who fine tune ancient traits with modern technology
She travels dark vacant streets where thuds of techno bass leak out into the atmosphere and disappear into the bay
She visits mute colored-homes with barren yards and junken cars
She gently blows carelessly thrown trash as she passes, causing them to whirl and dance before they land again gracefully
She eats up rhythmic Kreyol, Bahamian polished English, and Cubanismos
She passes art galleries that boast color, fashion, edge
She takes in humid summer air and exhales a fresh dry autumn breeze
She sits on cream colored corners and listens to gospel push its way through cement walls and bass pound by in shiny cars with candy paint.
It is unrecognizable. Heavy.
She laments then gathers her spirit in the wind and rests again in the Miami Circle.