Lovers kiss on the corner of Dueñas y Doña Maria Coronel
oblivious to the upended maroon sofa and overfull trash bins
awaiting pick up in the morning
the toddler whining in futile defiance
his parents scolding and hurrying him along
a young girl twirls wide circles from a street sign
an impatient woman drags a short fat dog
faster than his legs can keep up
trailing both is the gray-haired matriarch
speaking into the gap of space
the daughter leaves unanswered
on the second floor
a man watches a movie on his computer
his back to the open window
shadows and light on the screen
but I can’t make out anything else
an old woman waits while her husband descends the parking ramp
she and I exchange glances
then smiles
alas her husband walks up the ramp
the two wait a bit longer for the garage door to close
before she links her arm through his
they walk to the corner and turn left
we vanish from each other’s view.
Of course, no one vanishes.
The dog and the lovers
the old couple and the guy on the 2nd floor
the mother and her impatient daughter
the girl who twirled
even the street sign
sofa
the contents of the trash bins.
And yes, the foreigner
fingering coins
heavy and unfamiliar
in my pocket
no matter which one
I pull out
it won’t pay the price –
solitude
awkwardness
invisibility –
the traveler’s holy trinity.
I have lived each of these tiny tableaux.
I have been the one watching a movie
the twirling girl
the whiny child
the scolding parent
the impatient daughter
the one talking into unanswered gaps
the young lover immersed in a sidewalk kiss
the old woman taking her husband’s arm
the one pulled faster than I can keep up
the one discarded and upended.
Some watch
for the thrill of something different
an illicit jolt
the aliveness of potentially being caught.
I watch,
find my way home.
This echoes one or two of your poems from Guanajuato. Like this one a lot. And I love the line “Of course no one vanishes”
And these two poems from Sevilla seem much more introspective??