It's Still Life

I.
Staccato Heat

Siesta,
and the streets are free,
noiseless,
bright and hot.
Flamenco hot.

The rain in Spain, she says,
the rain in Spain,

but there’s not a drop of it.
Sitting there,
still, be still,
white hot skies,
and she’s
in the midst of
magnesium light.

On the edge.
Combust.
Ignite

But there’s no movement
when there’s no rain in Spain.

 
II.
Those Calando Views

The old yellow house,
marigolds
in the window box,
roses climbing
on the picket fence,
cat asleep
on the door step,

empty milk bottles
waiting for return,
a girl stands
behind lace curtains,
Most can’t see her,
but I sure can.

for dVerse: Music from Words using line-breaks and rhythm.