El tiempo / Weather

a Maria Teresa

Nada, ninguno nino ni nina, esta mi amor en el cielo cuando mi amor esta en la tierra.
Nothing, neither boy nor girl, is my love in the sky when my love is on the earth.

The currents run both ways. There is the flux and here is the churning emerging
so gulls can sit on whitecaps and porpoise slice the waves with their nimble diving.

Foam fills the tide on its way in, with whatever is out where no one ever swims to,
they are so determined to dance on the high waves with only their bodies to ride.

You’re never sure where your words are from or where they’re bound. It’s up to you,
you could say. The ring around the sun will stay as long as it takes the moon to rise.

I sleep under the sun. I missed the sand. I missed the lilt of voices speaking espanol.
No one need comprehend the meaning of words that sound like and are love’s entreaty.

Then the guns were carried down where the shore slides gradually, and loaded they
responded well to the trigger fingers squeezing off the first round that was so deadly.

You can wait for the warm currents of winter or the cold children coming in summer.
The boys know the heat of the girls and the girls know the touch of the boys is cool.

I want to see you everywhere, in the sky, on the earth, in the distance approaching me.
I know a love like this is prone to the weather report, her body’s heat tempering mine.

Or the way her body touches my body. The way gulls hover above what is down there.
The slant of the dive and rise of the eyes of great fish that know more than any other

being that far out, where the boat likes to take the waves and wash from side to side,
no one in that rocking cradle knows what may be done where the sea is so very wide.

(31 December 2010)

copyright 2010 by Floyce Alexander