day 4: feb 22

Day Four

February 22, 2023

seven days dreaming the dark of a new moon

day four, february 22, 2023

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poem this 22nd of February

today marks a year since I left New Mexico

poem in between the sounds of parrots who I see every now and then flying by in a swish of green

poem in between the sound of horses’ hooves and carriages in the Plaza de España

oh, there is one now sitting very still in a tree without branches

Last year, when I came here, the very first tree that I saw was a Celtis Australis

Celtis australis, the European nettle tree, Mediterranean hackberry, lote tree, or honeyberry

It is the Lotos apparently of Tennyson’s Lotos Eaters

I sat down on a bench next to it, after handing in the paperwork at the office next door that one goes to for their student visa.

Last 22nd of February, I was neither here nor there, having left, the long flight, the limbo in between leaving and arriving.

the dark of the new moon feel like that limbo.

the borders between all the worlds of story, song and dance are dissolving: landscape and city, a mythic bard on the shores of a faraway sea, the good manners with its new live flamenco, the Urdu I am re-learning with my mother, the books I am writing while taking my time to breathe and sleep in the sun on a warm day in Sevilla and listen to parrots going by in a swish.

that. this.

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