ïCooling ð

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By Albert Garcia

If I closed my eyes

and focused on the gritty-smooth

pleasure of pear in my mouth

and listened to your voice

humming to our daughter,

your attempt to soothe her

into sleep—if I simply held

that pear flesh with my tongue,

letting it dissolve, savoring it

like a memory,

if your soft notes could linger

longer between these rooms –

if you would come in

after the child is asleep

and share with me

the last few bites

before we turn in, if you would

hum to me something old –

if I could keep this evening

in a drawer

that when opened would release

a breeze like the one outside, the one

that has been there all day

moving the curtains

but which is now finally cooling