[poetry month] "X" by Ruben Quesada


I stand on the side of the road waiting
for rescue there was a time when youthful

sunsets were plum colored lights kissing snow
covered rooftops joy was a love letter
about the splintered edge of sentient
glaciers in Iceland melting into pale
green sea dreams of sleepy street lights

I am not alone an owl glides and its body billows
above into the pink anemone of dusk
into an open-mouthed window
where a skyline of high rises watch
cars ripple by like sequins stretched from coast

to coast everywhere every spring bloodied
cherry blossoms grow below back scattered
starlight I move toward approaching headlights
that conjure snowfall my nose burns somewhere

the thick arms of a pinyon pine smokes and as I call
out a dole of doves surges from my mouth like steam

— Ruben Quesada, from Revelations, Sibling Rivalry Press, 2018.