Daphne as Drum

Hola Everybody,
I gotta go hit the sweltering streets and check on possible living arrangements. Today, I’m posting a poem that grabbed me once while at a bookstore. It’s from an anthology titled, The Wind Shifts: New Latino Poetry, edited by Francisco Aragon. I know my friend Nina will appreciate this one… 

Daphne as a Drum

pa’ Juan

The Cieba tree is the national tree of Puerto Rico. Ponce has one that's over 5 centuries old. The Cieba tree holds spiritual meaning and are often located at sites that considered sacred.

In a clearing, the percussionist pauses
noticing the dark hips
in a tree’s shape.

He puts his arms around
the curve of its waist and holds on,
ear pressed to the trunk.

He strokes the bark
with calloused hands.
Daphne aches inside

her home. She wants to bend
and let down her hair when his palms
brush her stiff back and behind.

He whispers, you are red
inside, full of music.
So, he fells the tree,

rhythms thudding, echoing
from the fallen trunk.
Slowly, delicately he scoops out

everything, the sap
sticking to his fingers
And when it is over

her figure remains in the wooden
contours, waist and hips
responding below the taut skin

he taps between his legs.

-- Lidia Torres

* * * 

My name is Eddie and I’m in recovery from civilization…