Poetry

A Month of Shadows Pass

A Month of Shadows Pass -Poetry

~ Benissa, Spain ~
by Sharon Alexander

Late January when I arrived, the trellis
was strung with withered vines,

April now, lush green leaves thread
the arbor, buds break open

bearing tiny clusters of grapes—
the garden wakes as all of Spain

waits out this second month of quarantine.

Tugging weeds from the hedge, I find
a flowering trumpet vine tangled in the shrubbery.

Doves balance on the old electrical wires.
Seagulls glide in silent formation, a gust of wind

carries the broken melody of chimes.
In the distance, the sound of hammering,

a dog barking on the hillside. Sirens echo
up and down the deserted coast road.

Cumulus clouds dissolve beneath a blazing sun.

My mask hangs by the front door. I’ve learned
a new word, guantes, gloves.

Bees swarm the lavender flowers. A bird
whose name I don’t yet know begins to sing.

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