Jan G. Otterstrom F.

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The sea is always present
In the air, its halogen scent
In the breeze and wind
Within site it’s constant
Changing colors, textures
sun is brighter its glare
Reflection of the heavens
Freighters steaming there
Small skiffs trawling
Large styrofoam floats
Platform for divers, the
Curve of the city embraced
From the Capitolio dome
To the lighthouse of El Moro
Millions of crystal mirrors
Sparkle in the morning
The sound of the sea, its voices
Surging, withdrawing, tense
Relaxed, blue green aquamarine
Pocked rock, Malecon buffer
Tidal basins, plants and crabs.
Havana is the prospect of love
To give or receive, sustaining
Hope, movement, composing
Letters, poems of declaration
A best face forward, yet love
Becomes political when it is
Censored, fear of the poet
The troubadour, refused visa.
A true American voice, Silvio
Denied to honor Pete Seeger
In his 90th year, denied to sing
His humble hymns of hope
Yearning, butterflies, unicorns
Hummingbirds, sad that our
World is so ruled, terror, torture
Deceit and fear so often used
To promote global hegemony
The symbol of some policy
Can be gleaned from history
The Miami patriot, General
Fulgencio Batista fled with
Millions, Cuba was not worth
Dieing for, what can I do?
My dry dust fades with age
Soon turned with moist rich mulch
To give new roots rest, footing for life
Base to grow higher in search of better light.

c) Jan G. Otterstrom F.
    May 23, 2009
    La Habana, Cuba