Friends.
This is not a cycle, but two disconnected poems about the same person.
Alone, out at dawn.
The icy wind wraps me up
While my friends sleep.
Salgo sola, al amanecer.
El viento gélido me envuelve
Mientras mis amigos duermen.
Snow melts in the air.
Under her coat, she shivers.
Seagulls around us.
La nieve se funde en el aire.
Bajo su abrigo, ella tirita.
Gaviotas a nuestro alrededor.
At the right age for “best friends” I didn’t have any. Now I have three. One of them is gone to Paris for the weekend courtesy of her employers. I hope it’s not very cold there.
Alone, out at dawn.
The icy wind wraps me up
While my friends sleep.
Salgo sola, al amanecer.
El viento gélido me envuelve
Mientras mis amigos duermen.
Snow melts in the air.
Under her coat, she shivers.
Seagulls around us.
La nieve se funde en el aire.
Bajo su abrigo, ella tirita.
Gaviotas a nuestro alrededor.
At the right age for “best friends” I didn’t have any. Now I have three. One of them is gone to Paris for the weekend courtesy of her employers. I hope it’s not very cold there.