At least once a week
I walk into the city of bricks
where the rubies grow

and the killers await
the coming of doves and cats.

I pass by the homes of butchers
and their knives sharpened by insomnia

to the river of black sails
and the torn-up sea and the teeth of dogs.

She waits for me in a narrow bed,
watching the rain
that gathers on the broken street

and the weak light of dusk
and the singing trees.


About this poem
"I wrote this poem after one of my walks through Boston, my adoptive city. You can't fight melancholy, you can only join her as she listens to the trees, moved to singing by the rain."
-Pablo Medina

About Pablo Medina
Pablo Medina is the author of "The Island Kingdom" (Hanging Loose Press, 2015). He teaches at Emerson College and lives in Boston.

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The Academy of American Poets is a nonprofit, mission-driven organization, whose aim is to make poetry available to a wider audience. Email The Academy at poem-a-day[at]poets.org.


(c) 2015 Pablo Medina. Originally published by the Academy of American Poets, www.poets.org. Distributed by King Features Syndicate