from Salty, Savory, Bitter, Sweet

“…listen to me as one listens to the rain,
the years go by, the moments return…” ~ Octavio Paz


I believe you, poet, when you write
of how night is now more night
in the grove
, how lightning
has nestled among the leaves

But did you see when something heavier
than lightning came to roost, demon
with burning eyes in the corner of the yard?
It settled spindly legs and arms on the topmost
branch of the avocado tree, which immediately sagged
from its sad weight— how many decades of anger
and regret? It lit a cigar, hairy mofo with plans
to apparently stay a while— And then you said
listen to the rain running over the terrace
and I did, watched how it overfilled each vessel
that could not help being open. And in the morning,
what was rime and salt washed away, or turned to circles
on stone tile and clay gradually drying in the sun.


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