knowing looks, whispers
due only to the skin one is in
this norm sewn into our fabric
not swiftly abandoned
cannot withstand hard looks
does this not gnaw
at every soul?
this thing, that is undoing us,
will it ever be excised?
For dVerse Poets Pub where Sarah is hosting and the prompt is “Swift” on quadrille night ( a 44 word poem).
Caribbean sun beating down folks going about their business
a languid stroll eases to a halt in the shade of a almond tree
a respite for a soaking up of the market day scene
things are getting done not at a hasty pace
perfected is the art of moving under the Caribbean sun