South America 1998

An empty bed,
Sun stripping the bay
already, the insinuation of ascending heat.
we drag our bags to the car
wind down windows
and throttle to the harbor
where we exchange keys and wait
next to the fisherman smoking their cigars
and staring at the sea
which carried their lives away long ago.

soon we'll be knuckling our eyes
over breakfast in santiago
Then cooly flipping our id's over the border
back into Mexico
your tanned arms at the wheel
the day so lovely with loss
that we hardly talk
or think about the plane which will lift us into the drizzle
over the pavement of shattered puzzle
and all those voices too small for hearing

we will go home an decompress
and hope that this indescribable something lingers

but not yet, not now.
now we watch the compass needle flicker
over the bays salvation of blue
our wheels spitting stones from the road
the sea glittering in shattered chains of light
the way it remains in me
forever.