Sevilla

The evenings here are fragrant, warm and black.
The fan's monotony on the stillness
A dull lullaby to calm my burnt back.
Aloe vera soothing--drying--cool bliss!

The mirror in muted light holds me: bronzed
(I easily forgive its dishonesty)
Lying, awaiting some sleep before dawn
The thick dark heat blankets, hushing the leaves.

The quiet is broken, an instant--now
A soft thud the sole rebellious sound
The tell-tale fragrance drifts through the window
An orange has fallen down to the ground.

Its sweet, strong odor escaping the rind
Filling moments that pass, marking the time.




On a night just like the above, I really was confused by the sound and then the scent of an orange alerted me to what actually happened. It made me smile. And then, in my sleeplessness, I started jotting down the poem. It's mediocre but at least it kind of captures the moments of an average night in southern Spain.