In December Miami sun
stands out on the southern
tip of Florida like a full-
blossomed orange,
wind torn sunshine eats away
at those Florida skies.
Spanish accents echo through
Caribbean Boulevard loud
like an old town crier
misplaced in a metro suburb.
Off the east coast 90 miles,
westward winds carry inward
the foreign sounds lifting off
Castro’s larynx,
and the faint smell of an
old musty Cuban cigar
touches the sand and the shoreline.
Submitted by: Michael Lee Johnson
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