Online Poems

for Craig White's Literature Courses

Pat Mora


Pat Mora, b. 1942, El Paso TX

Mouths full of laughter,   
the turistas come to the tall hotel   
with suitcases full of dollars.   

Every morning my brother makes   
the cool beach new for them.           5
With a wooden board he smooths   
away all footprints.   

I peek through the cactus fence   
and watch the women rub oil   
sweeter than honey into their arms and legs       10 
while their children jump waves   
or sip drinks from long straws,   
coconut white, mango yellow.   

Once my little sister   
ran barefoot across the hot sand              15
for a taste.    

My mother roared like the ocean,   
No. No. Its their beach.   
Its their beach.