The Bachata Singer, poem by Elaine Nadal at
Austin Neill

The Bachata Singer

The Bachata Singer

written by: Elaine Nadal


Five planets are visible tonight.
I am still– a loose thread,
a tuneless shell.
He sings with a broken wing
–con sentimiento.

The stage is his sky.
His song, blood red like a ruby star,
intoxicates the room, dimly lit
with wanderers like me–
disenchanted souls
looking for wine.
The guitar cries
crimson rays,
turning sorrow into suspiro.
It tastes like tomorrow.
I awaken:
“Let me touch you.
Bachatéame, Papí.”

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