A sudden wind through the bar window
reminds me of Mexico
and a beautiful girl there
who spoke
nothing but spanish,
and brought me countless pitchers
of lukewarm beer
as the sun climbed into the ocean
behind us
and how I would never touch her
or know her name
or talk to her, just this one simple understanding
in the silence between us
as the warm wind carries the night
away...
but I’m not in Mexico anymore
and the girl just can’t relax as she keeps
gazing down to Bloor St. from the window beside us
.
The music gets a little louder
and I watch as
the sun stumbles
behind a building,
the warm beer in my hand reminding me
of the ocean.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem