~VIRGIL
SUAREZ~
SONG
FOR THE CUCUYO
caught them at sundown
in the tall
grass
by the plantain plants by
the porch
of our house in Havana,
put several
in clear marmalade jars,
brought
them
inside the house, as
pets, for the
night;
there on the nightstand,
in the
dark,
they flashed their
incendiary illuminations,
flashes of fluorescence,
like faint
lights
of a distant tarmac to
signal the
passing
of fears, such fears that
keep children
awake for so long: old
men in cold
rooms
sit in the dark, stained
undershirts,
the sound of phlegm,
fingers gone
yellow
from cigarette
smoking. This
long, long
road through distant
cities, wrapped
in strange light.
Everywhere,
cucuyos,
from Havana to
Tallahassee, to light
this child's way home.
© by Virgil Suarez
