Silvia Scheibli

Mindo, Ecuador
     “Poetic language calls up the invisible
           and makes things visible for us.” 
                                          —Martin Heidegger

Mindo’s cloud forest
snakes like an emerald alpaca scarf
tossed over trees &
wrapped in a lapis knot
by the long-waisted river
cascading over tropical cliffs.

Like one continuous call to prayer
the steaming foliage
calls up uncalculating rain drops
on the slick, darkened earth &
fern rooftops splashed
with black & yellow butterflies.

Yet within this cacophonous
jubilation of fauna
one can feel the thick fur
of solitude bind our very breath,
creep behind our eyelids
& fall asleep.


My Shoes
For Neruda’s Socks

My yellow shoes,
canvass – no match for
cobblestones in Guayaquil –
walk without complaint.

In the blazing Ecuadorian sun
step by step
humidity curls my hair &
begs for any sign of a breeze.

They make no comment
at the sight of street dogs
asleep in the same spot
each day by bloodshot day.

They don’t linger at store windows
with chocolate pavlovas
or cafe con leche at intimate
tables for two.

They don’t compare prices
of chicken or pulled pork burritos
with rice, pinto or black beans
at los carritos.

They don’t give a rip
about what kind of ice-cold cervezas
guys had for lunch
with their grilled cuy.

Stepping lightly in Iguana Park – 
sudden long tongues & tails
scurrying through tall grass –
avoided at all costs! No problem!
They don’t even care 
about being stuck in airplane mode
on the flight to Quito
sitting in the middle seat.

A tad jealous
my canvass shoes cringe
when a fancy, new Panama hat
is tipped with a smile.

© Silvia Scheibli

Silvia Scheibli, editor of Cypress Books, has served as judge for the 2017 Bitter Oleander Press Library of Poetry Book Award. In 2015 she was invited to Ecuador in a cultural exchange between the United States and Ecuador touring and reciting in the Amazonas, Quito, Babahoyo, and Guayaquil with Alan Britt.  She is a member of the Immanentist movement and author of, Parabola Dreams, Under the Loquat Tree, and The Moon Rises in the Rattlesnake’s Mouth.

Back to Main Loch Raven Review Site