Literary Arts Magazine Spring 2019 - Page 29

other hand, Belay thinks that he would have a good job in Ethiopia. He would be work- ing on the land of his coun- try. He also said he could be exporting coffee as well. Finally, in terms of what they recommend for anyone moving to a new place and what they would change if they did it again, Edwin said he would suggest to anyone trying to make that decision: “Just do it.” He thinks that if a person is thinking about moving out, it means that he or she is not content with the life they’re living. Also, he says, “If you have a chance for a better lifestyle, then just do it.” Belay, on the other hand, would recommend a person who is thinking about moving gather enough infor- mation about the other coun- try or place they want to go before moving. Additionally, if Edwin had to start the process of moving to the USA again, he says that he would study more English before moving because it is difficult for him to find a good job without being able to correctly speak the language. On the hand, Belay thinks he would not change a thing because even though he doesn’t speak the language fluently, he feels satisfied with the way he managed his trip. In conclusion, although some people have bad experiences moving out of their country, other people have better expe- riences because they gather more information before taking the next step. Every- body’s experience is differ- ent, but more likely than not, if the person is prepared for what is to come, chances are they would have a better expe- rience. Primero de otoño [Poema] Thelma Romero Las notas de esa melodía que escuchaba eran gotas de lluvia callendo en mi cerebro, mientras los marrones del otoño inundaban mis pupilas, ¡ese otoño en que te hiciste humo! Fuiste la aventura de verano que vino flotando a mis manos en el polen de la primavera y que cegada por el blanco frío del invierno jamás soñé tener. Me bañaba en las luces verde menta moribundo de tu habitación, dejando un mundo pasar diez pisos abajo y fantaseaba con no quererte y no sentir nada más que amor por mi libertad. Me inspire en tu vitalidad para despertar de la permanente parálisis del sueño en que existía, sin entender que tus demonios me lanzaban pieza por pieza y en secreto a una jungla en medio de la noche calurosa. Pero ni todo el dolor que causan las espinas que insertaste amablemente en mi cuello con tus labios, ni todos los agujeros negros que creaste en mi mente con tu complejidad e inaccesib- ilidad, evitaran que poco a poco mi respiración me regrese al presente y deje de saltar entre recuerdos que de tan ardientes me incineran. Y en este otoño sepia, ya no lloro agua salada que se congelara en el desolado invierno para en primavera derretirse... porque el verano ya la evaporo. 29