Eternal Spring / First Fall

I use to live in the City of Eternal Spring,

Medellín.

The only seasons we had were rainy.

Pouring tropical rains,

Or a yellow-petaled rain.

When the guayacanes blossomed

And then let their magical realism

Blanket Medellin

In yellow light

And latin fragrance.

Home away from home

Where the only thing eternal is stone.

Where there’s seasons to mark the time

I’ve never seen trees get ready for bed

Never seen leaves take their last breaths

In bursts of color

And gusts of wind.

Never lived somewhere with seasons

Where it rains acorns

And smells like wet leaves.