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A Lizard in Spanish Valley

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A lizard does not make a sound,
it has no song,
it does not share my love affairs
with flannel sheets,
bearded men, interlocking
silver rings, the moon,
the sea, or ink.

But sitting here the afternoon,
I’ve come to believe
we do share a love affair
and a belief —
in wink, blink, stone,
and heat.
Also, air.

This is not a fable,
nor is it bliss.

Impatience,
remember this.

Source: Poetry (January 2013)

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This poem originally appeared in the January 2013 issue of Poetry magazine

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A Lizard in Spanish Valley

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