I’m in a dark labyrinth,

following the echoing footsteps

of a beloved,

long vanished by time.

I’m in a warm enclosure,

being watched by a jaguar

that’s pacing with eyes agleam,

and I notice the smell of straw.

Leaning in the shadows

under the stairs,

I hear the notes

of unspooling melody

from a Spanish guitar.

On a day blue and sparkling,

I’m standing on a beach,

gazing at a shell

over the white sands.

Heather Sager