Pittsburgh hospital—
a patient asks me the name of that flower
as if I would know


dead butterfly on the sidewalk
the wind makes its wings flap
as if it were alive


callejón en Cartagena
volteo y me pierdo
en otro callejón


dos gatitas en la casa—
una que rumba cuando la acaricio
y otra que me mira como si la estorbo


white, snow-capped pines
and where the squirrels played
a green one