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Rated: E · Poetry · Romance/Love · #1069508
A jilted lover finds solace in a memory that brings a sonrisa, or smile, at sunrise
Smile at Sunrise


Sonrisa sounds like sunrise
and means smile;
snow crunches under my running shoes,
dawn's thin light reflects billions
of tiny frozen stars
winking up at me.

I remember today is the solstice,
and your words curl like smoke
from a cedar fire;
pain swells in my heart
and my breath paints the air
a misty gray.

On the day you went away,
you tried to console me
reminding me about all the beauty,
so much yet to see,
so much yet to live,
so many sonrisas yet to flower,
and you said,
"On the solstice,
the cranes will come
and you will smile."

On the riverbed before me,
a company of sandhill cranes alight,
strutting and poking long bills
into the ground, sending bugs
into frenzied flight,
and I think I'm invisible,
but one peers at me
with a curious sidelong gaze,
while the rest stroll
in regal indifference.

Your words gather
like spectral spirits
and echo in my mind as the cranes
flutter, bob and dance,
shouting at each other
in unabashed disconcert,
while a few tuck red crowns
into fluffy warm chests.
The cranes a tangly troupe,
performing a comedy of slapstick,
one slapping the other
like Moe poking Curly in the eye.

On another part of the sandy stage,
a choreography of swirling,
prancing dancers, resplendent
in costumed dazzle of iridescent feathers,
bowing to silent applause,
performing for no payment
but the laughter in my heart.

A radio crashes on a magenta horizon.
The cranes launch, wave after wave
like fighter jets in chevron formation.
Sonrisa flowers on my lips
as the warmth of a lonely memory
drapes my heart
like an Indian blanket.

Morning's waking to bursts of light
in a bouquet of gold
over mountains draped in lilac,
frosty gray meadows covered
by a white blanket carelessly dropped,
the mountain's cold breath
on my upturned face.

In the quiet morning
I can feel your embrace
and chills course down my spine;
goose flesh scurries over a melting heart
when I hear your voice
echo, "I love you."

Thunder rumbles on an indifferent mountain,
my vision bright and alive,
your lips press against mine
like sweet rounded fruit, chills
tingle and my heart thrums
to echoes in my mind,
"The cranes will come
on the solstice
and you will smile."

Sonrisa flowers on my lips
where you tucked it away
so long ago,
because you knew
that one day,
I'd need it.

--Aurelio



© Copyright 2006 Aurelio2005 (arloso at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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