Vancouver Serena
“Porque duermes solo, Pastor?
En mi colcha de lana
dormirias mejor.” –from “Yerma,”
Frederico Garcia Lorca
he knocked on my attic door
I gave him lemonade and
freshly baked muffin
then we lay across the bed
I didn't come here to make love
he said
but
I know
I said
and
we kissed into deep roses
and held November night
laden with muffins
he slipped into streetlight
I finished Yerma by Lorca
and blew out the candle
but I could not sleep
for a long time