Beautiful poplar tree in summertime,
You wear your black hair tied in a bun,
Your dark Sicilian eyes, sharp as an eagle,
looking out from your watchful face.
You remind me of the tall, taut trees
Of Southern France,
or the country roads cut deep
into the white-chalked hills of Italy.
Every word of your life is captured
onto a child’s ruled paper, crushing the pain
of existence with a fist torn by a rapper’s edge…
Your unrest yearns for the limbs
of a tragic fate unsung,
along the shores of Lake Champlain.
In your nightmares, you walk the streets or
board a train, longing to escape
the brown horror of the woodpecker,
with extended wings, black and white,
about to overtake you. You fight your death
with written words; legends of youth,
but mistakes stalk you —
All there by the edge
of the Waterfront in Burlington.
How can I forget you!
Your soft voice, like silken thread
entwines me, as I remember
your cigarettes, lip gloss, limo shoes—
the world you carried to get into your ‘jive’.
I think of our walk into the
pitch-black night, looking
at sailboats stilled by the summertime air.
About the author: "My name is Luis Lázaro Tijerina. I am a published author, published by the small press in Vermont, RA Press. I have also been published in Onion River Review, St. Michel’s College. I am also published in Russia and Serbia regarding military history. I live in Burlington, VT."