Read the poem here: Nostalghazal

Another ghazal, this time in Spanish (the first one I shared with you, in English, was Paralysis). This is actually the first poem I wrote in the form. The refrain in this form makes me ponder a theme from different points of view, but there's a liberation and hope in the requirement that the refrain be short and that all couplets be more or less independent, that sits at odds with the yearning and obsession of my other preferred refrain form, the villanelle (I've shared one in Spanish and another in English so far). As the name says, this one also reminds me of the stories of people back home, and how I should use the youth we still have left to make sure I honor them.

There's not a lot to say here that I didn't already explain and that the poem doesn't also state, so here you go: Nostalghazal.

About the photo: That's in the east side of Roatán, an island in Honduras, a couple of years ago when my girlfriend and I went there for our anniversary. There's troves of beauty in that tiny troubled country I call home, and beautiful people whose lives I wish I was there more for.