We listen to the crickets,
and my forgotten coqui.
Something reminds me we're here;
the tropic's summer breeze.
I hear the kids laughing
as they play on the yard.
There's not much to be afraid of
on the country side.
Away from the gray smoke,
away from the noise.
We lay on the grass,
and remember that we called 'sparkling dots'.
They were replaced,
by the city lights,
by sirens and hydroplaning cars.
I save the moment
to take it with me:
Two friends, I, and a shooting star.
If it were for me, we'd never go back.
(The coqui is an amphibian that can only survive in Puerto Rico, it looks like a frog and the male is the only one who sings, something like 'coqui, coqui'. There, I said it, don't google, be happy. ._.) Lol.
