A Poem by Jeffrey Park

SPANISH FLY

 

From his place on the kitchen wall

he told me stories through the long

evenings, tales of his adventurous

youth in a faraway land.

 

Sometimes they made both of us laugh,

but occasionally they brought

a little hitch to his voice and then he

sounded old and tired.

 

Sitting there in the kitchen last night

I thought of my old friend, but his place

by the cupboard is bare now

even when the mosquitoes are there.

 

Still, if I close my eyes, sit very quiet

I can almost feel a breeze on my cheek,

can almost hear a soft buzzing

from the far-off kitchens

and garbage cans of Madrid.

 

 

 

 

Baltimore native Jeffrey Park currently lives in Munich, Germany, where he works at a private secondary school. His latest poems have appeared in Requiem, Deep Tissue, Danse Macabre, Crack the Spine, Right Hand Pointing and elsewhere. More information about the poet and links to all of his published work can be found at www.scribbles-and-dribbles.com.