By Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal
I WANT SPRING
As autumn begins
I want spring.
I don’t want winter.
I don’t want summer.
I want spring.
I am straying from
the current
season. I want to
go away to spring.
Carry me off through
all the bers, September,
October, November,
and December.
Take me away from
the rys, January and
February. I do not
need to make any
resolutions on the
year’s first day. I do not
need Valentine’s Day.
I want spring.
I want spring
all in bloom.
WHEN AUTUMN COMES
My hands are full
living in solitude.
I love a little less
when I feel destroyed.
I feel anti-social
when autumn comes.
This is just a phase
I have stretched out.
I inaugurated sadness.
I curse the owl
that predicts my fate.
It does not like me.
I will love again.
I feel it in my skin.
I know it sounds absurd.
But I will love again.
IN THE SHADOW OF NIGHT
Stumbling in the shadow of night
where the scarcity of light bleeds
over what could not be seen. It
could be a monster or fiend or friend.
It is easy for me to pretend what
is not there. I don’t really know if
anyone is asking. What if it was me
who is slower than most? I am not
some great thief who comes out
at night. I am not brave enough to
fight the monster or the fiend. I
could face my friend with a smile.
Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal was born in Mexico, lives in California, and works in Los Angeles.He has been published in Blue Collar Review, Borderless Journal, Chiron Review, Kendra SteinerEditions, Mad Swirl, and Unlikely Stories. His most recent poems have appeared in Four FeathersPress.
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