Tag Archives: La Manzanilla

The Changing Seasons: Feb. at the Beach, February 2019

February in La Manzanilla, Mexico:

click on photos to enlarge.

 

Here’s the link for this prompt: https://zimmerbitch.wordpress.com/2019/02/27/the-changing-seasons-february-2019/

Father and Son

Martin, who owns the restaurant where we hold our Saturday writers group meetings, has his sons with him in the restaurant 5 days a week, and sometimes on weekends. He is just an amazing father, as you can see in these photos.  You must enlarge to see these darling father/son poses.

 

For COB

On a Candelmas Afternoon

On a Candelmas Afternoon

A woman with a white umbrella
strolls the empty plaza,
meeting the long-skirted bead vendor
who makes her hourly crossing from the beach,
her tray still heavy  after five hours of trudging under the sweating sun.

Palm shadows of a lazy afternoon
brush over, but do not disturb
the sleeping dog who fills the pavement
in front of “Abarrotes Gloria.”

Under its dusty awning on a bench
meant for  customers notably absent,

through one imperceptibly cracked-open eye,
the sleep-nodding senora watches for
anyone to stir the calm of this mid-afternoon.

That eye opening wider
as two young men on loud motorcycles
circle the plaza in Izod shirts
from the used clothing booth of the mercado,
leaving a tree-shaking breeze
that filters through shadows
to stir the fine hairs on her arm.

 

 

okcforgottenman pointed out that this poem reminds him of Nanci Griffith’s song “On Grafton Street.” Since it is one of my favorites, too, I’ve asked him to add a link to it here.

Sunset Susurration

Click on first photo to enlarge all.


Sunset Susurration

The murmuration of the waves, the breeze’s gentle rush,
the small stain of the setting sun, spread by nature’s brush.
The yellow of her pallet, bold orange and red and pink
complicate the skyline as we watch the sun’s orb sink
like a flame-red new-cast penny set upon the ledge
of that calmer ocean on the horizon’s edge.

See it slip so quickly into the ocean’s slot,
making us forget for now all that we are not.
All of life’s frustrations, all misbegotten schemes,
are flushed into the water to sink into its seams.
This is why we gather to watch the sunset’s beauty.
every single evening—as though it were a duty.

The prompt today was murmuration.