Eternal Spring / First Fall
I use to live in the City of Eternal Spring,
The only seasons we had were rainy.
Pouring tropical rains,
Or a yellow-petaled rain.
When the guayacanes blossomed
And then let their magical realism
In yellow light
And latin fragrance.
Home away from home
Where the only thing eternal is stone.
Where there’s seasons to mark the time
I’ve never seen trees get ready for bed
Never seen leaves take their last breaths
In bursts of color
And gusts of wind.
Never lived somewhere with seasons
Where it rains acorns
And smells like wet leaves.