Maria told me to contact you
When you were fresh back from El Salvador
And perhaps needing another shoulder to lean on
After re-entering this meshugah militarized greed culture
There we sat at a table
At Café Ventana
And soon you spread before me
Your final project from the previous semester
You stayed up all night to do it
It had to be that way
Had to cut through the sleepiness
To pour out all that had accumulated—
On each page a water color by you
And a special photo
And a haiku on one page in Spanish
And on the facing page your translation into English
How moved your compañeras in the class must have been!
Your multiple forms connecting
To the many people who made a place
For you in their hearts
Es verdad— the impossibility of writing an eight-page
Double-spaced, TNR font, academic paper
After a semester like yours
in the campo and San Salvador
That’s when I asked your major
And you said, Public Health
And I asked, Why, when you can do something like this—
waving my hand before your masterpiece?
But of course Public Health and poetry
Can be companionable
Like forty-something Angelica
And twenty-year-old Ale can be companionable
May you live to be 90, or 120
And always remember when you did that projecto—
You up at 4 a.m.
Aching to give birth to appreciation and awe
