Sonrisa sounds like sunrise
and means smile;
snow crunches under my running shoes,
dawn's weak light reflects
billions of tiny stars winking up at me.
I remember today is the solstice,
and your words curl like smoke from a cedar fire;
pain swells in my heart where I hide it
my breath paints the air misty gray.
On the riverbank a company of cranes
alight in a field,
they strut and poke long thin bills,
sending bugs into frenzied flight,
I think I'm invisible in the brush,
but one peers at me with a sidelong gaze,
while the others stroll in regal indifference.
your words like spectral spirits,
whisper in my ear:
The cranes will come on the solstice,
and you will smile.
Flutter, flop and fall, the cranes perform
a gangling comedy of slapstick,
one slapping the other with his beak,
like Moe poking Curly in the eye,
On a sandy stage, a graceful dance
of swirling, prancing, delightful dancers
resplendent in the costumed dazzle
of iridescent feathers, bowing at last
to silent applause, fearless and alive
performing for nothing
but the smile in my heart.
A radio crashes through the trees.
The cranes launch.
Wave after wave into a gray sky
like fighter jets in chevron formation
disappear in distant jet trails.
Sonrisa flowers on my lips as smoke
from a distant memory drapes my heart
like an Indian blanket.
Sun bursts in a bouquet of gold
over rim of the deep blue mountain,
breathing on frosty meadows,
its breath tingling my upturned face,
and your presence envelops me like a fog,
as I hear you say "I love you."
Thunder rumbles the mountain awake
as your lips press against mine like rose petals
chills course down my spine, and my heart drums,
frosted morning mist leaves me breathless,
and your words echo in the thin light,
"The cranes will come on the solstice and you will smile."
Sonrisa flowers on my lips where you tucked it away
so long ago,
because you knew that someday,
Id need it.
