Mi Amor de Palabras

 

The luxuriance 

of a well-rounded O

slowly cradled 

until it expires.

Making Tea

The promise of precision 

slips away 

when stray thoughts

enfold themselves 

into the pouring 

of the emerald green liquid.

Winter

 

A dark filigree

of bare branches 

radiates into 

the smoky sky.

Below, a palimpsest 

of snowfalls.

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Sitting next to a cat 

with the sun in my eyes 

amidst flitting rainbows

O fleet afternoon.

Inspiration

 

Surfacing

as an idea

too trivial

to water

nevertheless 

I let it grow.

Time

 

I live my days 

in half-curated pockets 

outside of time

to counter time.

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Me veo por los ocasos.

( I see myself in sunsets.)

-Federico García Lorca from the poem, “Confusión”