Last December night, in the dull ember light
I wrote my first poem to you.
Fragmented lines disjointed rhymes, except I got the stress on your Spanish name right.
Neither the words nor the awkward metaphors, you only fancy the way the sudden shift in tone makes you laugh.
I wrote a hundred more and I knew you read them all.
We\'ve already set our ship to sail, searching for the horizon where the sky and the sea meet.
Last December, I met you and became a poet; by next December I hope we\'re still exploring the earth.