“Sultry Island Dusk” by Stephen E. Cisneros

"Come at dusk, I must,"
is what he said to me.
"Come at dusk, I must,
he will speak to you and me."
I went home the other night--
to the place
where the peach blossoms blume
in spring's eternal shade of blue.
A place where musical skies
shine in your bright eyes...
Silver days fade my way,
calm autumns and winter reminders,
sunsets and dream finders.
Orange blossoms on the way to Bonham--
an aberration of home.
I see my grandma's street,
out of focus cars driving in the twilight heat...
Sultry island dusk
to which end we laugh,
oh we must... oh how we must.
I grasp the hand of the boatman of the stars,
messenger to the God of Mars--
we're lifting off in flying cars.
I grab his hand, he grabs my hand
as we both blast off--
into the promise land.