Spring comes
1.
painfully weeds unfurl
grackles peck out the monotony
wind carves the rock
with a torrid sigh
weighty winter is expelled
2.
in the opaque morning light
on a bench in a porch that has weathered
too many seasons
her pale eyes melt into pale blue skies
she contemplates the trees
the wind shifts sides
lifting sand drapes her face like a veil
embedding in the deep folds of her skin
she tugs the quilt close to her knees
brushes the sand off
it used to be a nervous expectation
as the day drew near
to see which trees lived or died
but one century of Springs and
countless gardens
she has learned to watch patiently
for Spring’s first cry
(different version published in Newspaper Tree April 3, 2006)
***
One day in San Antonio
Left El Paso in a rush to meet you
Under the cottonwood trees
Eight hours later I’m here
Fretting about the clothes clinging
To my body in the sweltering heat
And the stench of rotting food in alleys
You know what’s next
Before I say those gringos forgot to tell
The whole story omitting the
Mexico side in the Texas history books
You kiss me once twice
Tell me how you have
A bit of history of your own to make
Here in San Antonio
You unbutton my blouse
Dart your tongue in the groove of my nape
Press your hips against mine
I remind you
You are a gringo and I am Mexican
There is still the question of retribution for the lands
There is still the unquenched taste for revenge
But you say there are more victories
To be had and
This time it won’t be
A goddamn Fort
But how
I want to make you pay for
The wrongs done to my people my land
But today I like to
Forgive pray turn the other cheek
Remember the Alamo as it looks
From your bedroom window
I wrap my legs around your waist
Close my eyes
Shut the voice in my head that
Whispers Malinchista Malinchista
And I let you have me
***
What you need
I could escape
From any prison
Except my own
Pursuit of you
Ask these legs
Threatening to kick
Your door down
Slip in unnoticed
Like fine dust
Or a lustful wind
Spilling between
The cracks
Like a snow drift
Inside the frame
Of your door
To whisper
While you sleep
I have
what you need
***
Untitled
color:
liver brown fading pewter green
of chileno mesquites awaiting spring skinny arms grappling for light my face inches from the twig of bones under taut linen smiling with once upon lips her worry line folding between brows inquiring I want to
- stretch it out-
like a road travel years back to D.C. cherry trees books pigeons tourists in out of musty museums to capture our perfection in reflecting pools in afternoons of sultry breezes sprinting to the line to Fairfax with the pretty boys perfumed in earth and pine honeyed-eyed wide arms intoxicating with un-macho love: poetry merengue we live adventure worlds each other undying friendship apple pie lives we plan not for this that
rakes bones clean compresses lungs greens the skin this knowing it is over
no never this
***
Born and raised in El Paso, Maria Miranda-Maloney has published poetry in "Xispas: Literary Journal of Chicano Literature & Arts," and in "Newspaper Tree," as well as other online publications. She coordinates the Tumblewords Project blog found at www.tumblewordsproject.blogspot.com/
