Inspired by a Paco Pena CD (Azahara)

I drink juice of three lemons, strained into
hot water. The acidity is pure
intention, sun's sober welcome. Yellow
so soft the sun must be twice reflected
from a white stone house through empty sidewalks.

There must be days when I wear a light coat
made from sounds of waves receding further
from my home. When sun's heat touches my face
reminding me there is more to air than breath.
When the wind carries songs from cloistered trees
to a beach lightened by the smell of saffron.
Sand sifts through fingers to be cupped again
and again. Once still then one more breath as
fingers lightly touch along jaw to chin.