Yana Rial

Madrugada

Another cough syrup night,
eve of an exam.
dark palms swaying through the open window,
a distant dog barks.

Hurtling in a rickety taxi
through sleeping streets
under dusty lamps,
to heavy farewells and another country.

Denny's, eggs and wilted toast
weary faces,
languid cops behind newspapers,
slow stirrings in the kitchen.

Madrugada - a word you taught me,
along with foreign places on a map,
for a time of day,
the darkest hours
when fantasies awaken,
and possiblities abound,
before the first cold light of reality arrives.

CP

Yana Rial writes about people and places and things in between. Her most recent poems have been published in the Mastodon Dentist.