An Ending Out of Sight

This charming street is descending now

With gravity quickening our step.

Ahead, I see our route curve north,

And while I cannot be certain,

I sense we approach the edge of town.

Still, if true, there’s little to be done

But to slow our pace, hold hands firmly,

And see our pleasant stroll to its end.

Early Morning on Aviles Street

The sun has cleared the horizon beyond the inlet,

And now, to the rhythm of the nearing street sweeper’s brushes,

The homeless man gathers his things at night’s bench,

And the shopkeepers re-tidy their window displays from within.

Finally, the tour trollies leave their garage,

As the tourists settle their breakfast charges.

Oh, Aviles, brace ye for the approaching wave.