“Across From the Conservatory” & “Linger On” by Amalia Madrid-Lilly
Across From the Conservatory
by Amalia Madrid-Lilly
The flowers always bloom brightest in Golden Gate Park. Amidst the carefree chaos of the city, I lay on the damp, dew-graced grass, under the lilac sunset and reach my hand up to the sky's canvas, tracing the daisies and dahlias. I hang off of this flowering edge of the universe, my hand suspended— reaching and hoping to caress the stars one day, if I strain hard enough.
I watch the people as they come and go: the buses, the skateboards, the bicycles. For half a second, it stills; a silence that suspends and retracts, so fast I almost don't notice. A pause—a rarity in these parts. I reside across the bay and although this place will never be mine, a part of it has coiled itself around my heart as if it were my own.
I never needed much to dance in the sky with diamonds; all I had to do was stop and smell the roses.
Linger On
by Amalia Madrid-Lilly
I linger on
in the hills of San Francisco
where the ghosts of my lovers reside
the wind and the bicycles and the ravens
constantly passing me by
I linger on
as I tunnel my hands into the sand of Baker Beach
the place where my ashes will be scattered
I’ll share much more laughter here
in death than in life
because my fear of water
will be inconsequential.