at the Campo Argentino de Polo (also known as the Cathedral of Polo), a short walk from our apartment,

where champagne and sundresses are vital.

And at our friend’s polo practice near his country (house),

where lying in the grass is acceptable,

and where, after the game is over, dreams come true.

And you walk to the polo field after a day at the pool, having eaten pizzas cooked on the parrilla.

I’ve decided that I like polo a lot.

-C