Jan 31, 2012

The Iguana Visits

Ready for enemies the iguana scouts a different path.
Her head moves from side to side, radar slow, precise. 

Her tiny ears, sharp tail and three eyes, all weapons. 
She knows how far to the field, how close to the bowl of water. 

In her iguana world the cement patio, a potential minefield
disguised in torrid afternoons. We all wait unwearied, hoping for a visit. 

Her majesty with head dress and crown, she is priestess and performer,
our perpetrator of wonder. She visits mostly on scorching days. 

On days when all the clouds run and run
when the sidewalks wither the promise of every blade. 

At the edge of the patio the ritual starts. 
She looks, we look, she moves, we all move with her. 

When she gulps and splashes, we swallow hard and lick our lips.
Her need for water, our need for magic. 

From window and terrace posts, we're all quiet. 
She is our Santiago secret, our wonder. 

In retreat, she takes our fantasies with her, we all float
in her belly full, a shallow fresh warm river.

by: Elena Arosemena