Four Walls Poem by Jose Armando Guzman

Four walls of adobe.

Those four walls were
painted a light green
that will always make
me think of the way
my hands would mold
to the soft curves
of your waist.

Those same four
walls made out of mud,
straw, and water.
Sometimes stones get
lost in the formula.

Adobe walls that will
hold those moments
that are now frozen
in time.

The adobe walls can not
forget the shimmer
in your eyes nor
the rhythm of your
essence.

I too am made
of mud
and clay.