Friday Poem

The Mexican Cabdriver’s Poem for His Wife, Who Has Left Him

We were sitting in traffic
on the Brooklyn Bridge,
so I asked the poets
in the backseat of my cab
to write a poem for you.

They asked
if you are like the moon
or the trees.

I said no,
she is like the bridge
when there is so much traffic
I have time
to watch the boats
on the river.

by Martín Espada
from A Mayan Astronomer in Hell’s Kitchen
W.W. Norton, 2000

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