Across the bay breezes
Ruffle the Caribbean waves
Sending their blessed cool
To my fifth floor outlook whence
I watch the Afro boys
Run and jump off the pier,
The sunfish sailors race
In a long leisurely line,
A huge pontoon under sail,
A ferry cargo-ing fares,
Bathers clustered in a shady
Corner of the hotel pool
And coconut palms a-sway:
It’s a “typico” Cuban day.
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