Maura Harvey's Poetry   Color Memory Dancing with Daddy Destined Fifth Guitar The Gray-haired Woman Older Brother Park Scribe Sacred Breath Starfish Talents The Nest The New House Traveler Two Volcanoes Questions for Cuba Preguntas Para Cuba Home page maura@mauraharvey.com

Park Scribe I want to be a scribe sit in the poplar-lined plaza with my typewriter so the townsfolk can dictate their letters to me Let Florencio come he of the unrequited love with my rosy words that hard Amalia will be convinced. Let old Ana request a tender letter for the grandson in jail in the San Joaquin Valley. I'll thank him for the money order yes, I bought herbs and got a massage. Remember, my son, God may squeeze you, but he won't hang you. I'll fix up Rosa Maria's spelling I'll write her boss in Chicago. I gave birth to a healthy, fat baby; we call him Salvador. I shall compose complements like pearls for the actress (she looks like an angel fallen from her star) signed your respectful admirer, Emilio. I will write to Carlos from his true wife in the eyes of God do not forget me up there in Nogales, come back for me as soon as you've raised the money, there is no battle worse than the one you don't fight. I will write Miguel Angel that there is no point sending money for the trip my dear little mother died and there is no one to care for the baby signed sadly yours, Lupita. Ladies and gentlemen, I offer you my literary knowledge for all types of correspondence, for you to get in touch with your loved ones, your boss, your sweetheart, your rival, the government of the state, the union. My specialty is love letters. Later the mist will vanish from the park and At the morning's close I will put my typewriter in its old case. The ballad will be over. I take my leave with this truth: I chose this trade to be able to talk to you, to feel you close with every letter I tap out there towards the large world where surely you are with each page each envelope each stamp I say to you beloved and always remembered love.