Behind the Poem

"This weekend the sun came out in Seville and suddenly, as if spring has been around for weeks but hidden behind rain and clouds, there’s green and budding everywhere. The kid upstairs has been stomping back and forth in her new shoes. I’ve never seen that kid, but due to the way the apartment is constructed, I know that she wakes at 7:30 and goes to bed around midnight, which means she starts dropping things on the floor—my ceiling—at 7:30 and hardly stops until 12 A.M. I hear her saying goodbye to the apartment when she leaves with her father. “Adios casa,” her little voice shouts. And while they stand and wait for the elevator, she calls out “Ascensor! Ascensor!” I imagine her small, maybe 4 years old, wearing a ribbon in her hair and carrying a doll, and I’m sure if I were to see her parents looking at her, I’d see love in their eyes. I think I know what that love looks like."

Read this article by Curtis in North American Review.