Remembering Vieques  (33 years before Maria)

The seaside cemetery looks

Like a harbor packed with white boats

Topped by empty masts.

Flamboyant trees, flaming in their red headdresses,

Blaze out along the lazy street.

We come from morning prayers on the beach

Down below the driveway lined by conch shells.

Muchachos pass by riding pasofinos,

The small, island horses whose

Hooves clop on the asphalt road.

Tart salsa tunes blare from a radio

In the colmado, packed with canned food,

On the corner where the road meets the sea,

Neighbor women take their morning stroll

For gossip and goods;

We greet the owner, "¿Como está?"

"Regular," is the pat refrain

Offered with a nod of his balding head.

The Caribbean is a mirror;

Thunderclouds hunch above the southern sky.

                                      -- C.S. Cholas

                                                1984, Vieques, Puerto Rico