there is a time of day
when the grass turns to emeralds and
the sky dark bright blue and
the poppies Manny planted to deep bleeding ruby
there is a time of day
when the sun beats less hot on our backs,
our skin,
and the smell of
sea air baked earth cut grass
spirals up from the ground
and Manny puts down his hose and walks past me
hey kid hey chica he says
and lights his cigarettes and puts
his boots up on the stucco porch post
and mama comes out with flour in her hair
hands on her hips chewing her seeds
to watch the mountains burn orange
there is a time of day
that i can't help but notice
from my car/room/house/window
that the beauty of the day is in full bloom
and you aren't here to see it
and you won't be
for a while or forever
there is a time of day
where i feel lonelier than i'd ever believe
because it used to be my favorite time of day
because i thought it was just for you and i
there is a time of day
that i am beginning to hate
because all i can see
is what is no longer there
there is a time of day
where all the colors bleed together
and manny eats his blood orange
and mama spits her sunflower seeds
and i do everything i can
not to let my tears mix with the
red clay dirt
this time of day.
