A Lizard in Spanish Valley

A lizard does not make a sound,

it has no song,

it does not share my love affairs

with flannel sheets,

bearded men, interlocking

silver rings, the moon,

the sea, or ink.

But sitting here the afternoon,

I’ve come to believe

we do share a love affair

and a belief —

in wink, blink, stone,

and heat.

Also, air.

This is not a fable,

nor is it bliss.

Impatience,

remember this.