by Charles Southerland
–and in a single day and night of misfortune….Atlantis
Upon securing my inheritance,
I sailed to Spain in search of my Raquél.
We’d met in Lanzarote quite by chance
and I was struck by plunging moons and fell
at Café del Carmen over cocktails.
Come dawn, she caught the sun and disappeared
like dew when wind comes calling. No details
were left behind, no letters volunteered.
From port to port, from north to south, and down
around Gibraltar to Valéncia, back
and forth I roamed until I found a town
in Andalusia, where she owned a shack.
Raquél’s mama and papa were elderly.
She had a son of ten who favored me.