by Kathryn Moll

There is sadness
in the snap of the maid’s navy smock

I have arrived
too late. La mesa ya está
puesta, the sideboard set
all thoughtful with flowers—your sick bed
now vacant

and unwound. Groups of waiting
stems struggle
to keep their musky summer
blooms—auras azules
en órbita

and limes are left wanting
to be sliced into cups
whose handles are turned

A las diez
A las dos

A dios—arms
Your useless legs
ya no pueden bailar
yet the soul still
creeps. I can see it
clustered
with butterflies

Mariposas borrachas
are silvering the soil
of dogs—they are browsing the blood-
red terracotta
tile

You are
ready to greet the sun
por ventanas abiertas
que cuadran la luz

breathe into the harmonic
bobble of bees
on the vine—to reach for blooming
stalks beyond the eve

Más allá
Más allá

Let us leave this
insect churn—the mourning
that is beating like living
gold leaf

blessing the windfall
fruits
where they lay in the road
ripe with worms

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Kathryn Moll is an architect and California native. Her text-based drawings—collaborative works created under the name modem—have been shown at the Yerba Buena Center for the Arts in San Francisco, and the Cooper Union in New York City. She lives with her family in Cambridge, Massachusetts.