For Saira
On a train journey without a destination,
Someone invented Salamanca as a person.
She was an orchid of pure imagination
When she first appeared as fiction,
The heart’s eye in “The Salamander Dream of Jorge Macatangay.”
In “Summertime” she became a poem.
Does she echo the flamenco of magical Spain?
Someone asked in the monsoon rain.
Is she the one also known as Saira,
The “glistening sands” of the Sahara?
No one can tell and no one can foretell.
She may be the arabesque in a strange bazaar,
A sudden engagement with depth of field
When the moment of beauty sets us free.
Feb 4,2008
Victor Peñaranda