The Balcony

On the balcony
On my black recliner
Caked in pollen
When the sun begins to slip behind the mountains

When the pleasant mariachi music
loud and crackling
Bursts from some unseen radio
and brings some unseen trailor park to life
behind the fences
behind the evergreens
behind the uplifting brightness of
those red and yellow
dying leaves

When the thick, warm scent of grilling
beef and
sausage and
steak
wafts efforletlessly across the streets and sidewalks

When the children laugh and yell and the women call and the men toast and chuckle and
watch the meat

When one song ends and the tinny white quiet
Speaks deeper than any mariachi band in the box
I am more alive
and more alone
Than I ever could be without them