Winter En El Vall
It is a Valluco winter,
slurping on raspas de leche and swimming in canals.
Here, I’ve never seen a daisy die of frostbite,
never seen a sycamore sob icicles
because a cold wind paws its leaves.
Never seen chachalacas
postpone their song because of sore throats.
Yet I’ve seen men huddle around a fire,
battling days without work,
the cold fronts
not even the Valley heat can thaw.
(previously published in Cranky)