Al amanecer, las luces de las calles brillan
espero el sonido de jóvenes soñolientos
en camino a la escuela
pero las calles permanecen vacías.
¿A dónde fueron
los gorros y las chaquetas
las mochilas llenas de cuadernos y libros
crayones y pegamento de brillantina
zapatillas de ballet y una camiseta de fútbol arrugada?
Extraño la canción rebelde que cantaban las mañanas escolares
el amarillo del autobús escolar que despertó mi alma.
Continue Reading »Posted in Children, COVID-19, Death/Loss/Grief, Quédate-en-Casa, School | 2 Comments »
Night settles a too-thick blanket over wearied Day,
stretched long and thin, past its limit.
Its skin dirt-brown, cracked-dry, will not moisten
or renew by morning.
Continue Reading »Posted in Bible Story, Emotions/Inner World, Isolation/Belonging | Leave a Comment »
For protection, my neighbors use barbed wire coils
large dogs, underfed and mistreated, pacing rooftops and fenced perimeters
wrought iron spikes atop decorative steel gates and fences
a stegosaurus spine of glass shards cresting tall stone walls
thick metal doors with extra braces and key-locks
unlandscaped hillsides made unpassable with refuse
discarded mattresses
disassembled wash machine parts
metal chairs
cement blocks…
All manner of deterrent to keep unwanted intruders out.
Today a hummingbird rested on a sharp metal spike
above the terrace
and a virus broke into the family next door.
Posted in COVID-19, Guanajuato, Quédate-en-Casa | 3 Comments »
Spring is blooming, it’s the season to fall in love
scented, blossoming canopies
jacaranda flowers pale indigo
cherry blossoms pink and white
blushing wisteria
orange and lemon perfume the air
even cactus bloom in the desert
though from the window we see only needles
or trees cordoned off with yellow tape
or a corridor bereft of annuals.
Continue Reading »Posted in Love, Seasons | Leave a Comment »
Nanas de la Cebolla (Onion Lullabies), by Miguel Hernandez, 1939, was composed while the poet was in jail after the Spanish Civil War. It was sparked by a letter from his wife, where she told him that she only had bread and onions to eat, and that both she and his child suffered from severe hunger. Hernandez contracted tuberculosis in jail, dying without ever meeting his son.
The kidnapped princess locked in a tower
spins her escape ladder
from golden hair
a soldier ends famine-induced distrust
as villagers enjoy his stone soup
the laughter of a baby
whose nursing mother
eats bread and onions
soothes his hungry mother’s sadness
his incarcerated father’s loneliness.
Continue Reading »Posted in Fairy Tale, Guanajuato, Poetry, Spain, Writing | 3 Comments »
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