In the beautiful regrets I carry there are shells
and sea spray and sunlight, as well as dark evenings
stretching full lengths of the Malecon, my seawall path
sparse and unrehearsed. Taxis come and go,
stop and start, while people chatter native tongues,
blending scotch and Cohibas in the starlight evenings
with coffee and papelillos in blue morning sun.
I fall in love with everything here,
every time I come.