a surface siren of the air
with wings instead of fins
the black phoebe perched
on the wooden fence sings

calls me to the surface
of an aquamarine pool,

“Ah, yes … right.
this water shouldn’t be here. But you should”

This Phoebe is my neighbor
warm and welcoming, who stays
and stares before departing

the crows in  the mountains I used to climb
in Goyang recognize people

if a stranger was on the path on their way to the temple they’d crow three times

When I almost stepped on a snake they crowed repeatedly more than five times
as to warn me

Black Phoebe will you recognize me tomorrow, are we friends ?

I stand on the dirt arena, the matadors are my thoughts and bulls are feelings. Both strong and assertive. I watch them and breathe.

It is about to erupt, my chest over my life
blanketing everything anew

If we wish to be tender then we must accept to be brave.

Marina left and at first I thought she was out picking berries, drifting under the canopy in the forest, but at last the june birds cried and her absence was louder

realizing only then that each step she took
had taken her farther
            My Marina was out of the forest
and although there was no knock on the door and no ring was presented by a striking suitor, I felt
as though at last life had come for her hand

I saw a beautiful man in his late 50’s
with his curtain bangs and his shoulder  length white hair that contrasted
with his tan brown skin

the creases below his eyes looked like holy mountains
And around his lips and under his mouth a thin three day beard let itself  awaken over his chin as well

But the two most beautiful things about him were the glistening of his eyes and the field of calm that surrounded him

I stood up and said “ hello, I want to tell your hair is so beautiful. I am growing mine”and pointed towards my three strands of white hair. He smiled and chuckled a little and said thank you with with a spanish accent.

He reminds me of my uncles, my cousins and the old pictures of my grandfathers.  So beautiful his long white hair.


How beautiful, how I long to remember
when my own set of hair becomes an enveloping white sea against my skin