Despejado
written by: Pablo Cúzco
@thetaois
The sun shines different on this day
it is kind.
Despejado, the Spanish call it.
Clear. The air cool. Shadows that contrast a brilliance
you see only in October. Crisp and colorful. Leaves,
orange (as the frost ruptures their
chlorophyll membranes), blazing
against still-green lawns.
Summer dies overnight.
Life goes into stasis. Winter folds a blanket
and waits to warm its toes in Spring.
Light is even against the sky
it reflects melancholy.
Gulls fly high above the coastline—their song shrill,
naked. Taunting, they travel the corridors of the coastline.
Gales push the ocean against the shore. It’s cold here
in December—lighthouses sputter in the wind.
The woman I love
is the return of the sparrow.
South along the Atlantic, she finds her winter haven.
Her laughter is a flower. It will bloom in Spring. The morning sun
softens the window blinds, soaking the floorboards
in its attenuated glow.
- Despejado - November 29, 2024
- Apocalyptica - August 29, 2024
- Beneath the Center of a Cosmic Sky - June 7, 2024