Odilia Rivera Santos
The sun was lazy, not willing to warm me or the day.
The walk was a meander near some not-quite-woods
near civilization, albeit a more tranquil kind.
Strangers walked and ran in the opposite direction,
eyes meeting mine to greet before our silent separations.
My head wobbled like that a dashboard toy.
And I looked down to count dry leaves and
pretend-skate through them to listen to the light
scrunch sound and it all reminded me of my first winter --
away from the tropics.
The first very cold day is very cold and
probably never to be regained,
in the same visceral way or duplicated.
The tall dry brown gray tan grasses barely budged in a breeze,
which seemed piercing and harsh to my tropical soul, but then,
there was another warmth, radiated from my heart to
provide some solace until Spring,
and you may be right.
It may have been what I mistook for his love.