Susan Arre

El calor del sol de la Habana

To be honest, I know it is a little odd
That no matter where I go,
I can always feel the heat of the sun,
Or so it seems, of Havana.
Most days I hardly notice it.
But it shines brightly on my face,
Making me glow just a tiny bit.
In the winter I feel its balmy warmth
On my back, protecting me
From the chilly winds that blow
This far north of the equator.
Some days, its heat is stifling,
The glare of the rays cutting into
Everything I see, blazing
As if it could light me on fire.
The hardest days though, are those
Rare ones when I can't feel the sun at all,
And a bleak bitterness sets in
That leaves me searching
For the sun of Havana,
And the heat that comes from my home.