but I can have this
sunset porch with candles lit
with music lit
a gel of orange warm fire
against my watered down
bewilderment
my cat and I pretend to
live in Spain
and listen to the outdoor
speakers cast Latino waves
into the double-dyed and
moonlit air
it drips
like new batik
across a slope of lawn wet
through, as
trains in bellybands
trundle on to border towns
and flatten copper pennies
for your thoughts, or for
mine, each in their
untangled finished
and unfinished ends.
Mia Moore
"A lovely work with a rich touch of Spain." —Kirk
