seated beside the bars where the immigrants passed
Swedish apple strudel, light talk and banter with the man in the wheel chair
the high pitched scream of a confused child's voice pierces the air
bringing my senses back to the sea, the heat, the bars
The sea is hot here by the bars of immigrants
while growing from my bags are sweet basil,coriander and sage
they are tall, voluptuous, filled with vitality,beautiful, and sell for the highest price
A woman stands waves her black arms high into the air
a small boy and girl run with delight into them
A white yacht silently floats past on midnight blue waters
as cold and silvery black as a January night sky
Retirees lean off the upper rail in T-shirt as the cool breeze refreshes their old skins
cups of coffee line the counters inside the deli by the seas on the deck of immigrants bars
Sunshine, children,parents,lovers,travellers have all come to enjoy the summer
on bikes boats and in
sea hats, by the bars of the immigrants on Pier 21
