She still carries the old awning from territory to new territory.
Originally, the salt-sprinkled awning
brightened her face
when the sea sun glowed orange and splashed the canvas.
Now, the soot-covered awning
dims her olive skin, casts shadows
during the day.
At first sight, you would fold away
by her striking
under a flammable movable roof.
Second glances prevail and
reveal surprised, flared smiles.
The blackened awning drifts
with homemade electricity
sideways over her tarry hair
lingers for a while, as if delivering rain
like a cloud-
then, it stretches wide and blossoms
toward the sky to be refilled.