ataque al corazón
I am sitting outside of a hospital in San Juan.
Why is a long story.
The breeze has a warmth and samba to it,
a breeze I have never felt before.
The pidgeon watching me has red feet.
It’s shift change–
no scrubs, Capri pants, washed-out jeans, buns & scrunchies, stethoscopes around necks, sandals, t-shirts, beach towels in hand.