Madrugada

Madrugada

The sea is flat and motionless
gray as an old cannon at the military museum
in a province town that has
painting on the wall of battles and dead generals
a fine place to go, should it rain
a Saturday afternoon
Dead zone shots will never be fired in anger
On the pristine lawn, a panzer tank
a shot down an enemy plane and children
are not allowed to play, a holy place
When the war began (war is constant). thousands
years of peace fell, clattering to the ground
The strand of life, filled with ashen bones
and untold horrors
On the wings of Morpheus, I landed softly
outside a small house, lemon-hued color
I Enter, a woman serves me a cup of coffee
drinking slowly as the color blue in the sky returns
with added white dots
remnants of night's grief
The sun is yellow, so are straw attraction donkeys
The olive tree is green, the way oceans used to be