Beth Baird


No AC

Moisture gathers on my forehead
Forming droplets
Dripping past my eyebrows
Sometime winning the race 
To the lip finish line

Seated at my computer
Sweat beads trickle down my spine
They end their race trapped at my waist.

Productiveness of cool early morning hours
Gives way to a long siesta time
Triple digit daze
Melts my enthusiasm
Fans, water, but no AC



Kauai

Warm clear summer sunshine
This tropical palm tree day
My mind far from civilization
My body ten miles from
The tourist town of Lihue

I crack open a coconut
To suck its juicy contents
A collection of conch shells
To decorate my island hut

Living alone with the papayas
Mangoes, and guava
Pineapple for breakfast
Mahi Mahi for lunch
And I settle down
On the heated moist sand
To watch the sunset 
With a bottle of Primo Beer




San Sebastian

Gloomy day at Bay of La Concha promenade
Heavy clouds threaten
Rain will make its appearance in an eye blink
No one in the water on this summer’s day
Tourists in tapas bars
Content to eat not swim

Impervious to the weather     
In an atmosphere of discovery
We walk and search the environs
Empty swimming platforms
Empty beaches
We forge on to Monte Igueldo
Funicular lifts us to the top 
A vista like no other
Deserted antiquated amusement park
Awaits us
The weather and no tourists provide an eerie setting
Staff preparing for the summer crowds
Our only company

We discover an ancient roller coaster
Concrete with metal tracks
The operator maneuvers the brakes from his seat in the car
Intrigued
We must find the driver
We must go on this ride

The Basque speaking operator obliges my son and I
Leaning over the first turn
Gasping as we notice the ocean cliff below us
We approach the final thrill
A tiny tunnel
My tall son ducks his head to avoid decapitation

A brief glorious ride
We are royalty with a park to ourselves
This is one for the books

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