Hurricane by Raymond A. Foss
A hole in the wall shop, Counter and seller Plastic cups and pitchers A bit of rum, a bunch of ice Grenadine, lemon, lime Passion Fruit
Step into the noise, The crowd, the Quarter, Listen, feel, as care Merges with rum Replaced with a smile And a change in gait
Slower, slide down the street Sway to the sound, rhythm Pace of the place, color and vibe Under the porches and intrigue Hidden in backyard gardens And knowing glances
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