Ode to Wet Concrete

Céu nublado

cloudy sky

devoid of blue

or against blue

single angry cloud

gray river

before it is river

wet clay raising

around bare feet

between sinking toes

imprinting the full weight

of a body

standing

at the edge of a body

of water

mixer of earth and sky

in distant downpour

mixer of sky

and skin

as it dries on

ungloved hands

restorer of moisture

from being

to air

drying beauty

mask, opaque

mirror

keeper of footprints

holder of children’s hands

gray

magic

levitating

against walls

in rotating drum

walking on water

in a palace

of Dawn

cement potential

semente

future architecture

future ruin

Christ the Redeemer

bed for Falling Water

bossa, your strength

said to be the feminine

curve

modernist

promise

broken

cracker

of illusions

of domination

over nature

conquered by weeds

easily pulled

by tips of fingers

order

uprooted

by roots

spread flat

by sandal or spatula

sandy grit

scratching blade

the stuff of sculpture

the stuff of sidewalks

the stuff of home

house

where I can fall asleep

without fear

of burning