Havana
The old man hands out his walnut hand
"Cigar" he calls "You understand?"
"Dollar?" he holds a few pesos
and shrugs his shoulders on he goes.
The sun beats down relentless streets
Men stand in doorways shouting greets
" Hola Amigo" You wanna Rum?
But you walk on into the midday sun.
The big old cars they cruise along
their fins and wings they sparkle on
inside they are a thing of faith
held together in all but space.
The music dances down the streets
and filters down its salsa beats.
You order mojitos and find a seat
and lose yourself into the heat.
The tall dark girl she looks your way
a dusky stranger of the day
she takes your hand and makes you walk
the steps of samba, rhumba talk
you cha cha, spin and glide the floor
she smiles and leaves you wanting more
She shrugs her shoulders hits the bar
Your good but not that good in Havana.
Dalquiri in the Floridita
beside Ernesto feeling weaker
you cool in side the Capitol
and watch the world above it all
You took my heart Havana you
stole it on the Malecon
you made chase your winding streets
in the fading of the sun.
Someday I'll sit upon your walls
retrace my steps within the stalls
Call your name out in my sleep
the day I left you I did weep.
12/4/2005
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