Stay tuned about what happened to
that maid next door, who had already done
her chores around the house, & that firebrand

of a gardener who went out the lawn, shirtless
under the summer sun. Sweat leaving the bodies,
attention leaving the house. All these left

while bristles of the broom rest with dust,
Dry brittle leaves, hair. Bubbles and steam
from the rice cooking rise but can never escape

while the stove burns. The window nearby
filled with the auburn of the caballeros branching
toward it as if peeking, and at their roots,

the hose water runs violently on a bunch of santans.
The day smelled like mowed grass, green mangoes.


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