Mouth of the Red Waters By Barry Stepe

Mouth of the Red Waters

I want to get lost forever
in your tangle of jungle hair
black as the Cuban night,
soft as the clouds
that bring cool rain
to this wandering island.

Watching you glide by
carried by crisp, oceanic breezes,
the rustling of coconut leaves
flirt with your gaze
and touch with slippery, soft fingers.
Past the stark, white doorways
where the beat of merengue
tickles your ears
with sensual pulsations
and tempts your papaya red lips
to bloom into
an incredibly contagious smile.

To the coast,
where the sea motions you forward
with foamy white kisses
to a liquefied passionate embrace.

I will stay with you
until the sunset dips itself
into the mouth of the red waters
and I can no longer see your features,
your scent washed away, foreign.

Latvian Castle

This is a picture of the castle that my father lived in Dundaga, Latvia before immigrating to the United States.