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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=418254" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Yesterday</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yesterday, the sunshine made the air glow<br>pushing me like a sixteen-year-old<br>to toss my shirt off, and run along the river shore,<br>splashing in the water, wading out to the reeds,<br>my heart an ancient Yaki drum<br>and I believed,<br> more than believed,<br> the air beneath trees was female blue dancers<br> I approached, and there in the dry leaves, in the crisp twigs,<br> I turned softly as if dancing with a blue woman made of air,<br>      sunlight,<br>  in shrub-weed skirts.<br>  I knew the dance that would please the Gods,<br>  I knew the dance that would make the river water<br>  smile glistening ever silvering,<br>  I knew the dance steps that praised my ancestors.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yeah, I wanted to write you a poem woman<br>for two days,<br>and today it was gray and snowy and overcast,<br> about how I startled the mallards from their shallow<br>refuge beneath the Russian olive trees<br>and how the male purposely<br>  came close to me<br>  diverting my attention to it<br> its female love went the other way<br> risking its life,<br> that's what I saw,<br>the male fly before the hunter's rifles, circle in sights of hunters<br>and take the shots, the roaring rifle blast<br>   after blast<br>and circle beyond over the fields to meet its female companion.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">That's how I miss you, that's how I wanted to write you a poem<br>since we left<br> you one way<br> me another way. I was the male<br> taking with me the hunters that would harm you<br> risking my heart so yours wouldn't be hurt,<br> fronting myself as possible prey<br> so you could escape,<br> that kind of poem<br>  I am writing you now.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Circling as hunters aim down on me<br>while you rise, rise, rise into the blue sky<br> and meet me over in the next fields.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> I wanted to write you a poem for two days now<br>  to tell you how happy I was,<br>  seeing a white crane arc<br>  between banks in the irrigation ditch<br>  with furious efforts, its big wings flapping<br>   like an awkward nine-year-old kid<br>   much taller than the others his age<br>   with size twelve sneakers<br>   flapping down the basketball court.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But once the white crane<br>found its balance, its wings their grace, it glided more perfectly<br>than a ballet dancer's leap across air,<br>  all of its feathers ballet dancer's toes,<br>  all of its feathers delicate dancers<br>  all of its feathers, in motion<br>  made me believe in myself,<br>but more,<br>  when it rose, swooped up,<br>  the line of ascent up<br>  made me think of the curve of your spine,<br>  how I traced my finger down your spine<br>  when you slept,<br>your spine<br>  is the ascent of the crane<br>  toward the sunshine,<br>and my hands my face my torso and chest and legs and hips<br>became air, a blue cold artic air<br>you glided up in your song of winter love.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Jimmy+Santiago+Baca">Jimmy Santiago Baca</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=418254" data-title="Yesterday de Jimmy Santiago Baca" data-description="Yesterday, the sunshine made the air glow
pushing me like a sixteen-year-old
to toss my shirt off, and run along the river shore,
splashing in the water, wading out to the reeds,
my heart an ancient Yaki drum
and I believed,
 more than believed,
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