"There remains a void where the heart is" J. Marti
Nesting green leaf tops, Cuban emeralds Sip from fulsome urns. Green pinnate Leaves bleed gold blossoms. Granite, Mortar, marble mausoleums tier. Pilings leeching pitch from piers; Beneath ebbing angels languish Flawless ivory nautili. Cayo Hueso.
Last led, lashed bare, los Martires de Cuba Shape the buried ground below The unfazed virgin's unmoving gaze. Uprooted, the restless tamarind root Reeling, wheeling gulls' unbalanced calls, Sea salts pitting an old air sung In anguish of forsaken language.