Is it possible
That the birds of Antigua
Speak fluent Spanish?
Their songs hold a hint:
Trilling softly rolling rrr’s
And calling !aqui¡
One, I swear sings out
¡Buenos dias, mi hija!
Upon meeting me.
Peace, People!
Is it possible
That the birds of Antigua
Speak fluent Spanish?
Their songs hold a hint:
Trilling softly rolling rrr’s
And calling !aqui¡
One, I swear sings out
¡Buenos dias, mi hija!
Upon meeting me.
Peace, People!
Sleeping with wide open windows
In La Antigua de Guatemala
Night murmurs offer lullabies.
Alarm clocks are unnecessary.
Songbirds, first one, then a
Chorus begin telling the
Stories of their lives.
The shrill one is my avian
Doppelgänger, repeating
Her story ad nauseum.
Occasionally, though, she
Touches my heart, punctuating
Her song with, “please see me?”