Photo by Tara Winstead

In the center
the table
of solid wood,
you’re leaning
I can almost see you:
the table is the
stone,
and all that passes
over
is the river:
succession of afternoons,
morning light,
food,
and boys
that barely cross the threshold
and become men.
But there’s a time,
each afternoon,
when that table is a raft,
its silent arrival
at the heart of fire,
as if you wrote
a poem amid war.
To account for that passage
your name
among other questions,
privilege of the gods.

Andrea Cote Botero

Andrea Cote is the author of three poetry collections, En las Praderas del fin del mundo; La Ruina que nombro; Puerto Calcinado; and two selected works, Chinatown a toda hora and Desierto Rumor. She has also published three books of prose: A Nude Photographer: A Biography of Tina Modotti; Blanca Varela or Writing from Solitude; and edited a Colombian women’s poets anthology, Pájaros de Sombra, winner of the International Latino Book Award. Cote has received The National Prize of Poetry,  Struga International Poetry Prize, and the XXIV Premio Casa de América de Poesía Americana (2024), among others. She has translated into Spanish the poets Gibran Kahlil Gibran, Tracy K. Smith, and Jericho Brown. Cote is a Professor of Creative Writing at the Bilingual M.F.A. at UTEP.

Craig Epplin

Craig Epplin has published reviews, essays, and creative nonfiction in Public BooksWords Without BordersMusic & LiteratureThe Bosphorus Review of Books, and Guernica, as well as translations of short works by José Martí, César Aira, and Enrique Vila-Matas. He is Associate Professor of Latin American literature at Portland State University, and is the author of the monograph Late Book Culture in Argentina (Bloomsbury).