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.