¡Canta Coqui, Canta!

¡Canta Coqui, Canta! [from Hypothetical Review, Issue 2]

On a bed made
of too many pillows
Mi Abuelita sits up
and nibbles into English.

Stories of Arecibo without
street lamps, without time,
without roofs and first kisses
on montañas alta spin

as a documentary on tree frogs glows
at the foot of the bed,
a bowl of half-burnt popcorn
between us.

Abuela drops her glasses.
Rubs the water from her eyes.
She says, I should get ready
for them. They sing throughout the night.

They sing because they are happy.
They sing because they are home.

Link: http://hypotheticalreview.com/issue-two/roberto-f-santiago/

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