"Saffron Rabbit" by Christopher Riesco

Photo Credit: Victoria Bowers, obtained and licensed through Pexels.

Saffron Rabbit

Hoping to forget my divorce, I have booked
two weeks in the house, which is up a hill
in a dry country, which I have been visiting
since I was a little girl. Now I am thirty-five,
sitting on a chair beside the pool, pleasantly alone.
The sun dips, darkness enfolds the house, I sleep.
The sun comes up, I return to the chair. So it goes.
I wander down to the scrappy village,
and drop in at the butcher, where I pick up
rabbit, to brown, and simmer in saffron with rice.  

Sun comes up, sun goes down.

I find a girl on the road, a hitch-hiker.
Between times we lie tangled and kissing
in a bed that stinks of rabbit and saffron.

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Christopher Riesco lives and works in Manchester, UK. He is an amateur scholar of the Metaphysical poets who he thinks also exist in Spanish. His own attempts at poetry have appeared in PN Review, Bodega, and other journals.