la Nochebuena

At 2:30 in the morning, the duty phone warbles and wakes me. I answer, hang up, sit in the dark to orient myself for a moment.

I am here.

But before I move, before I can remember dreams, a thought whispers -- so very clear -- so genuine --

and it is something worth saving, I think, in paths frozen by ocean breeze and nights with blood run red, the one thing to turn thunder into mist.