Brown
Ma
Ha
Gony
Brown
girls
grace hot concrete
with their presence
their leather sandals
provide a glorious view
from ankle to neck
greased with coconut oil
dabbed with sweat
simmered by sun
their feet brush the street
while their short cotton dresses
wave from side to side

In there walk their is music
the rattle-tattle
pling plapling pling
of the steel drum
as their brown eyes
glance,
blink slowly
to the away side,
sizing up their
ripple in the
giant sea