A note: This poem was written several years ago and forgotten.
I found it the other day and thought I would share.
I want to thank Mai H. (Chickalatina) for her help with the Spanish.
In the evening’s cool
is when I miss you most.
Or is it in the morning’s mist,
as a pastel sky emerges
with a lonely sigh?
Then again it may be in midday,
as an orange sun kisses
my eyes with memories;
or when those deep shadowy nights
paint you alive.
Mi amante, yo se nada
excepto que estoy sufriendo,
que te anhelo,
que te anhelo.