Poetry Friday..from yours truly...some will be my own..others will be from another author

Sweet and breezy, sun glowing desperately
Where I live is fierce, eyes of ice
Ethnic skin Dripping of grime and sweat
Jungle beats are heard
bright flashy colors of tropics
odd glances and expressions
 it’s clean. trash is scarce dirt is lifted
streets painted with fresh black tar
it is mixed like a fruit salad, every fruit belongs
Tastes sweet with others.

© Where I live.