Streets of Bonoa
Between emerald mountains there
Markets sprawl under Dominican feet
Cycles a buzz up, down around the square
I watch as the palm leaves senoritas sweep
Ladies beneath basket heads walk the broken streets
Taps upon my shoulder as youthful vendors beg them bare
Along with a blinding kindness of the underlying thieves
Because I am the foreign, the strangness to make them stop and stare
Copyright © Michael Smith | Year Posted 2012
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment