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Poetry

I Can Imagine… Poems by Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal

TO SAY GOODBYE

Time has erased the road
where I walked as a child.
The last time I walked through
here there were trees and grass.

Time has eroded everything.
There is no shade, no flowers
blooming, and no fruit on
the vines. It is all rubble.

How sad it makes feel to see
this road go away like if it
never existed. I have only
returned to say goodbye.


THE END OF SILENCE

I am almost at the end of silence.
I am way past the end of love.
Everything is almost over.

Where could I go now?
And does it really matter?
I feel the wind in my eyes.
In a matter of time, I will be blind.

Summer is long gone.
The glass is neither half empty nor half full.
The leaves that fall at my feet
will be followed by their mother trees.

I will spread out like a tortilla
The sea will carry my remains away
toward sunset like my will says.
The sky will fill with clouds
and birds will sing my goodbye song.

My time will soon run out.
I could still hold out for a moment.
I am as impassive as solitude.
My eyes are fixed upon the sun.

Lay my soul to rest.
Let me pass like all things.


THE FOG BELOW MY FEET

The ceiling has dropped.
There is fog below my feet.
The ceiling has dropped.
I can barely see the street.

I can imagine this
a meeting of ghosts
gathering all around us.
It must be their mouths
blowing smoke out of
a ghost cigarette.

I grounded my car.
I left the keys on the nail.
I grounded my car.
If I drive, I am sure to fail.

I can imagine I
am walking on clouds
rising from the ground.
It is nature, the
fog-maker, reminding
us to look out and slow down.
Art by John Constable ( 1776-1837). From Public Domain

Born in Mexico, Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal lives in California and works in the mental health field in Los Angeles. His poetry has appeared in Abramelin, Barbaric Yawp, Blue Collar Review, Borderless Journal, Fixator Press, Kendra Steiner Editions, Mad Swirl, The Literary Undeground, and Unlikely Stories.

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