Summer Salsa
by Elisabeth Anderson

Sitting on the veranda

watching the sun sink softly into the west

on the sand a conga slowly begins to beat

Swinging, rocking, back and forth

life rises up to take the stage

as colors of sunset flame across the sky

Flying across the floor, castanets in hand

scarlet rays touch the spines of a saguaro

heat of the night radiates from the guitar.

Hands barely touching

feet stepping in time

alone they move together

Music weaving in and out

liquid spices of red and black

swirling around with passion

Tango

Flamenco

Eternal dance of

Summer Salsa.