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It's been a long time since I write a tanka, but it came out in Spanish. I have translated it but it is really not the same if I can't use the Spanish name of the tree.
This tanka is based on a line from Sylvia Plath's poem "Elm," and it is dedicated to Willie Miranda Marin. sufrió las atrocidades de las puestas del sol sin ser ceiba detenido frente al espejo se deleita en lo oculto
May He Rest in Peace
It’s 3:43am and I’ve been up since 2. I must have gone to sleep really early because I feel like I have had my full 5 to 6 hours of beauty sleep. Willie Miranda Marin, the Mayor of Caguas, died yesterday and the news has not stopped covering his death. (Todo el mundo y sus pulgas tiene algo que decir de él. Qué pena que no lo dijeron antes de que se muriera.) I had to turn off the TV. It felt like a circus! Really, I wonder how much respect we have for a man whose family must not be going through an easy moment. It is true, he was the best politician Puerto Rico had seen in a long, long time, but there is a moment at which we must step back and ask ourselves just how much is too much! In our culture there is no safe medium when it comes to praise or scorn at the moment of a person’s departure. S/he was either a saint and we loved loving them, or they were the devil itself and we hated their guts. I am sure it has to be our Spanish bloodline, because what we see (or saw, it h