The red of the unseen blaze
covered a concreteness
then a gasp then a laugh at her own fright.

She smiled as one does when experiencing mortality.

The boulevard of broken glass glistened between footsteps.
Bursting is how she found it,
bursting into itself as night draped above.

A fire of my expectation
and the brightening of an eye, she thought.
Black leaves stretched over her --
quiet and walking and smiling
with teeth and pleasure shameless across her face.

An instinct rose within
and she began to spin herself in her dress of yellow, summered silk.

Circle over circle,
she felt her skin against coolness.
The whirling calmed and the yellow glowed
as it does when one remembers a day of laughing during a game under the sun.

She stepped forward, knowing she had been there before.

Gustavo Alberto Garcia Vaca is a published writer/poet and visual artist. His poetry has appeared in literary journals including Dark Planet, Rattle, The Bilingual Review, El Colombiano and Urban Latino. His artwork has been exhibited in art galleries in New York City, Los Angeles, and Mexico City.