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  • Grant Handgis

Grant Handgis ~ Author/Poet


On the inside of Old town

In old Mazatlan, the streets

were alive with activity

the architecture spoke of its

own, in gracefully ancient lines

dignifiedly old

as the woman of El Cumelos, who

for six pesos

fed me chorizo and eggs, and a toothy smile

as the sun greeted me once again, and

I pointed out the places I

thought you'd like as much

as I, and even spent much time

at the vendor's bazaar

to look at everything, drinking

in all the aromas and musical

words. The old town opened

its arms to us, as to a friend

offering the best it had to give

You may be waiting up there in

Tucson

but I made sure you didn't

miss a thing

This was the second poem penned during my foray into Old Town. I was on a roll and feeling completely relaxed, just enjoying the sights and sounds, people and buildings I was seeing. The best tamales I bought from an old woman in the Zocalo park were the best I had ever had, to this day. They cost ten pesos for three very large ones, or about $1.25 USD. Everything was working to my benefit, as if it was all an extravagant display, just for me.


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