For Tony
By Diana Solís
Where do you come from
always calm
and dark eyes
liquid sweet
encased in delirium.
You arrive and rest
after navigating clouds
in times of war.
We talk amidst the devastation
of abandoned cities
the wrath of men
searching for peace.
Time sets on your profile,
transient,
taking me through the crevices of memory.
I draw lines in the sky,
I call you with signs,
but you don’t see me.
In your hand the rope of a homemade swing,
I see you’re wearing a hat,
a smile,
as years go by.
The image drowns still flowing strong,
taking you away.
I can see you on the distant plains,
far away ...
The last words of a letter
promise so much to say.
Unconscious smear of ink,
a blot in the last days of your existence.
You look at me from the devastation.
Silently,
you offer me a cup of tea;
while I bury you
with my hands.
Notes:
This poem was published in Shards of Light: Astillas de Luz (Tia Chucha Press, 1998), a bilingual anthology edited by Olivia Maciel. Reprinted with permission of the author
This poem is part the portfolio “Wholly Seen: The Work of Diana Solís” from the December 2022 issue of Poetry. Read the Spanish-language version by Diana Solís, “Para Tony” and read the rest of the portfolio here.
Source: Poetry (December 2022)