Lay me down just beyond the back porch,
where the pomegranates grow—
a stone for my pillow,
fragrant grass and pink evening primrose for a quilt—
beneath playful trickles of sunlight,
sieving through branches, verdant green,
that dance to the burden of those
fateful red globes.
How I could pass these languorous days
lost in the shadow plays
cast upon these eyelids too heavy with sleep—
of mists and stars
that stretch and fade into nothing
to the familiar knells of horned larks
that ring from blush and yellow blooms
of lantana trees
just beyond the gate.
Or to roll, smooth,
pebbles and twigs,
caress the backs of shiny, black beetles,
between curious, cold fingertips dug deep
into wet earth,
conjuring up ambrosial moments,
of the taste of that sweet, sweet, red nectar—
those wanton streams of warm
that dribbled down my tongue,
onto white t-shirts and
leaving me forever wanting
and feasting on shade.
one day you’ll come along, take a bite and say,
“Hey, David’s tasting good this year.”
David Estringel is a Xicanx writer/poet with works published in literary publications like The Opiate, Azahares, Cephalorpress, DREICH, Somos en escrito, Ethel, The Milk House, Beir Bua Journal, and The Blue Nib. His first collection of poetry and short fiction Indelible Fingerprints was published April 2019, followed Blood Honey and Cold Comfort House (2022), Little Punctures (2023), and Blind Turns in the Kitchen Sink (scheduled for July 2023). David has written six poetry chapbooks, Punctures, PeripherieS, Eating Pears on the Rooftop, Golden Calves and Blue (2023), and Sour Grapes (coming 2024).