In caribbean breezes
the sea salt air
stings her nostrals
and the sand
whips her ankles.
Her eyes close
and all she can sense
is the hot sun
and warm breeze
with ocean spray.
She opens her eyes
and what she sees
is the red stoplight
staring at her
from above the intersection.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Once again you have impressed me with the change of direction in the poem. I always enjoy how I can actually feel your words, a feast for the senses.