Algarve

when the she becomes she
the palest of moons slides easily
resides in thin pink clouds
palms pines quiver ever so
in silken pink breezes
lips speak to the hidden sea
narrow streets lead to nowhere
then the air becomes still
birds return to their shadows
hearts warm slowly sweetly
to the coming darkness
algarve

JP Pestana
Algarve
9.24.18

The Street Sweeper

just above my eyes
a bee exists with me
a flowering tree 
a bridge suspended
in blue light
some later place exists
before this before anything
below the tall pine women
stretch their bodies in a grassy daze
another sleeps with her hand 
across her breast her heart
cars stream hum in time
and all along the street sweeper
sweeps away smaller clouds of sunny dust
memory of fallen leaves 
from younger trees all
from
me

JP Pestana
The Street Sweeper
Lisbon
9.28.18

Unspoken

how shall we speak

can we

when the only sounds

are from our tears streaming

revealing the history of us 

the myth of our perceptions

the weaknesses we shared

and yes the earth can move

without us

another 

language

lost

jpestana

Unspoken

10.6.2018