Hobble Creek Review
Hobble Creek Review
Carol Parris Kraus
The Day Laborers

The Mexicans pressure clean my complex walls. Trucks
gather them from corner gas stations before dawn, eight
at a time in a wooden planked flat bed.

I have traveled to Chichen Itza, climbed the ninety-one
steps of the Pyramid of Kulkulhan. From my perch, I
surveyed the precise walls, the massive playing fields
of the Mayan village.

Afterwards, we stopped at a small kiosk , dickered
for pennies we found behind couches, under kitchen counters.
I bought some silver jewelry dotted in malachite. Returning
to the resort, I watched the iguanas stretch in a nap
and enjoy the afternoon sun.

My coffee drips and plunks accompanied by sounds
of laughter, clipped Spanish cadences. From my
stark white box I watch brown sluice slide over windows,
run-off into the streets.
Carol Parris Krauss lives in southern Florida with her daughter, Kelly,
where she teaches.  Her poetry has appeared in
The South Carolina
Review
, Blue Collar Review, and Pebble Lake Review, among others.  
Her chapbook,
Sisters, is soon to be released from Pudding House
Press.