Fin de Semana

The streets are filled
with ice cream and cerveza
and the wildly patterned legs
of senoritas.
It is a day
of sunlight and red flowers
and fuchsia flowers and blue.

A slight wind
 strums the swaying branches
of the palms,
joins other village sounds
to compete with the passing hum
of  traffic streaming
from the city to our shores,

 seeking the gentle lap of water against willow,
hypnotic bobbing of the pelicans
between the undulating liria––
a lazy day away
from urban life.

For NaPoWriMo