The raven waits for the snow.

The first flake falls but melts away.

Will they come, and will they go?

More flakes fall but do not stay.

Is it cold enough for snow to stay?

I believe so.

Will the raven fly away?

There he goes.

Here is a little video I made with this peom.

https://youtu.be/N-4heWOEAGA

So, I go into Starbucks and I buy my usual, a cappuccino. And the cashier, Paulie, asks me, "Do you want stickers?"

Well, no. I have gone electronic and I don't want a day planner. What would I do with one? So, I turn to the next guy in line, a huge guy with dark curly hair that looks like a Samoan who just killed a whale and I ask him, "Do you want my stickers?"

And he says, "Yah,"

Yes, you guessed it. This is my Christmas pass it forwards story, but to tell you the truth, I started doing this because I wanted to flirt with this cute girl in the line and just kept on doing. I've been giving my stickers to the next person in line for weeks now. It felt good and I couldn't use them. It seemed like such a waste to just throw them away.

But then, Paulie looked skeptical, and my mouth went into overdrive, "We've been friends for years."

I'd never met the guy before in my life.

And Yoni, that's the big guy's name, I saw Paulie write it on his cup. Yoni started looking disappointed like he'd just lost his best friend.

So, now I'm in turbo mode, "He's my cousin."

I'm five, eight on a good day and Yoni is six, four when the wind isn't blowing. He has a full head of hair and I am as bald as a rock. This guy is huge. Standing next to him, I look like his pet chihuahua. Paulie's not buying it.

"Yah, he's my cousin twice removed. My father's sister's cousin's brother's daughter. We grew up together."

I'm in it deep, now.

"We aren't genetically related. Or when he doinked my sister it would have been a real scandal."

Where did that come from? I don't know, but Yoni is turning all sorts of embarrassment. Pink, green, blue. Red, purple, magenta. I'm beginning to think Yoni here is part chameleon.

"No, it wasn't his fault. My sister seduced him. He was only thirteen. My sister was sixteen. Practicing cougar right out of the gate."

Now my sister is a pedophile.

Then, the counter girl Pia, my savior, yells, "David. Cappuccino for David." Pia and me go way back. Talk about a Deux ex Machina ending. Pia, you are a goddess.

"Well, you better give him my stickers," I say.

So, Paulie, looking doubtful, gives Yoni my stickers. And this is the best part. Yoni, this big guy says, "Thank you," and gives me his shy smile like nobody had ever done anything nice for him.

"Like, I said we've been friends forever." You'd give your best bud your stickers also.

Jeanne called me on the phone. She was crying, "I could have had a baby."

She recently married a man and they were trying to have a baby.

"I had two abortions," she said. "I could have had two children already but now I can't have any."

No one deserves to have a child more than Jeanne. She would make the best mom.

I dated Jeanne and I loved her. I still do. I was good enough for her, not smart enough, not rich enough.

She met this guy who was in banking. She followed him to Germany and she got pregnant twice. Each time she had an abortion. Each time she called me and cried the deep morning cry of the loss of a child. I cried also because they were her children and any child of Jeanne would have been so great.

The man she was with was a bastard. He didn't want the children, and to stay in the relationship, Jeanne had the abortions. In the end, when he had money, he dumped her, for a newer, taller, blonder woman. Like he was trading up. I can't imagine a better woman than Jeanne.

Now she couldn't have children, and we both cried for the children that she could have had. We cried for the children that she should have had.

Well, I did 45 minutes on the treadmill this morning. It is a new record for me. I am going for my ideal weight -- sizzlingly sexy. About three weeks ago, I realized, that if I didn't lose some weight it would kill me. So, I became highly motivated to stay alive.

Being a guy, I choose the most macho gym around -- Gold's Gym. Mecca of bodybuilding, home of Arnold. That and the three months half price promo made my decision. I said I wanted to get skinny. I didn't say I wanted my wallet to get skinny.

So, I did 45 minutes on the treadmill, came home and slept, and then my wife brought me a meal of lettuce for lunch, and I suddenly realized that I was turning into a hampster. This explains the hair on my back.

Going to the gym is working. I am losing weight, feeling healthy, my clothes are loose, but now things are starting to sag. I think I need a bra. I must be a 47 double-A? Maybe, I should get Spanx?

A man smiles as he walks down the streets of Quiapo. The streets are full of people pushing and jostling the man. He carries two plastic bags full of rice. They are heavy and full, and he carries them gingerly. His daughter hangs on to his right arm and his son hangs on to his left.

The bag of rice in his right-hand burst and the rice pours onto the dirty street. The street is full of refuse, yellow dog shit and slimy water.The man puts down the bag in his left hand and squats to see if he can salvage any of the rice. His face furrows with worry. There is no way to recover any of the fallen rice. People kick and step on the rice as they pass. He stands, looks at his daughter and son.

He picks up the second bag and continues down the street. The second bag breaks and pours onto the street. The man's face becomes a picture of agony. His eyes are ringed with red and full of tears. He looks at his daughter and his mouth becomes an expression of horror. He looks at his son and he closes his eyes in pain.

The rain came and brought life back to the Philippines.

I smelt the warm fragrance of jasmine on the breeze.

It had a sharp top note of lemon that told me

that it floated down from my calamansi tree.

I followed the lemony scent to see the tree

and found it covered with a silver filigree

of small white double blossoms and many honeybees.

The white zip-tie cut into Jeff's wrist. He couldn't breathe well with the duct tape over his mouth. Jeff sat on the floor in his white pants, white shirt, and brown belt. Smudges of dirt clung to him. His shoes had been taken and his tan socks had holes in the toes. The dirt of the room clung to his sweaty skin. Light slanted in through slit windows at the top of the wall, the angle told Jeff that it must be around three o'clock. The smell of urine came from a blue bucket, in the corner. He heard people's voices speaking in Spanish, and he remembered that he was in Mexico.

The back of his thigh twinged, as he tried to stand. A picture flashed in his mind of him walking on the street, and a man kicking him in the back of the leg, knocking him to his knees, then a second man punching him in the face and everything going wonky.

The turquoise metal door opened, and Jeff's dry eyes hurt to look up and see who came in. He could see past the man to a courtyard, and the back of a house painted lime green. Small puffy clouds passed overhead in the blue sky.

The door slammed shut and his body tensed. He strained to focus on the man in a black mask, checkered shirt, blue jeans and cowboy boots. The sand on the floor ground under his boots as he stepped closer and squatted down. The masked man spoke quietly in plain, unaccented English, "For two hundred and fifty dollars this nightmare can be over for you."

Jeff could smell the man's putrid breath. He could see the stitching on the wrestling mask. The mask had been turned inside out. Jeff decided to call his captor the Mask. The Mask stood and paced around the room. "We are not greedy men, all we ask for is a quick transaction." The sand under his boot screeched as he turned. "Do you understand?"

Jeff nodded his head.

"You pay, you don't talk to the police, and you leave Mexico immediately."

Jeff felt shame and fear, but he nodded his head. In that moment he felt absolutely defeated.

"If I take this tape off your mouth, you will talk quietly. If you scream, I will give you something to scream about... yes."

With a black-gloved hand, the masked man pulled the duct tape back.

Jeff breathed easier.

"Do you have someone to deliver the money?" asked the Mask.

"Yes, my wife."

The Mask left the room and returned with Jeff's cell phone. "You call your wife and tell her to bring the money to the Western Union on Calle Tejón, next to Revive, and give it to the boy wearing your LA Dodger's baseball cap." He handed Jeff the phone.

Jeff tapped the icon of his wife on the phone, then tapped the icon to put her on speaker phone.

"Jeff, Jeff where are you?"

"Helen, I am being held ransom. I need you to bring 250 dollars to the Western Union."

"Jeff, I can't do that."

"Why?"

"I got on a plane, and flew home."

"I need you to come back down here and bring 250 dollars."

"I can't do that, it's too dangerous. Think what you're asking of me, to risk my life? What if they kidnap me?"

The phone went dead and Jeff couldn't think anymore. An image flashed in his mind, at an outside bar and a glass with an umbrella drink being thrown at his head. "You slept with my best friend!" That's why he had been walking, because Helen had taken the rental car and left. Jeff's mouth was dry. The masked man held out his hand and Jeff gave him the cell phone.

The man left the room again and returned with a bottle of water. When the door was open Jeff could hear the voices of children.

"Here, drink this," the Mask opened the bottle and handed it to Jeff. "What hotel did you stay at?"

Jeff drank as much of the water as he could. He was afraid that his captor would take it back. "Royal Cancún."

"Oh, not good. The price just went up to 500 dollars," said the masked man. "Do you have a friend who can wire you 500 dollars?"

"Why 500 dollars?"

"The risk just went up. If it was an easy transaction. Then we take the money and run. But if there is risk then we have to charge a higher price. The Royal Cancún is 750 bucks a night, you can afford to give me 500. I am not a greedy man."

"Yah... yaah, I see."

"Jeff, call your friend and have him wire you the money to Western Union." The Mask handed the cellphone back to Jeff.

Jeff tapped the icon for Matt. Matt had money. But the call went directly to voicemail, "Leave a Message!"

The Mask shook his head.

An image flashed in Jeff's head of Matt handing him 2,500 buck then regretting it. Jeff never paid Matt back. Jeff tapped the phone, and the call ended.

"Do you have someone else?"

"Yah," and Jeff tapped the icon of Bill.

"Hey, Buddy. How are you doing?"

"Bill, I need a favor. Can you wire me some money?"

"Jeff, you know I'd do it, but I'm short of cash."

"Bill, I am being held hostage. I need you to pay the ransom. It's 500 bucks. Can you send it to the Western Union in Cancún?"

"500 bucks, is this a joke? You're worth more than that."

"Bill, just send the money. This is serious."

"Like I said, I don't have the cash. Can Helen send it to you?"

An image flashed in Jeff's mind of Sandra lying beneath him, her auburn hair splayed out on the pillow. Sandra was Helen's best friend and Bill's wife.

The masked man made a slashing sign across his throat and held his hand out for the phone.

Jeff ended the call and handed the phone to the Mask.

"Jeff, if you don't mind me saying this, you don't have good friends."

"What happens now?"

"I take you to a friend of mine, and I sell you onto someone willing to take on more risk than I am willing to do. This is a business. It is how I make my living."

The way the masked man said it, it sounded reasonable. Nothing personal just business.

The Mask left the room and returned with a burlap bag and pistol in his belt. He put the bag over Jeff's head and pulled him up by the arms, helping him stand. Jeff's legs were stiff and his bruised leg was sore. Jeff heard the slide of a gun being pulled back. Then the Mask pushed Jeff towards the door.

Jeff could feel that the sun had faded. It was cooler and it was nearly dark. He could hear the Mask open a screen door, and as they entered the building he heard the voice of a woman and the chatter of a TV set. He heard the sizzle of food frying and the scent of flour. This must be the Mask's wife. As they passed out of the kitchen, Jeff heard the elastic snapping sound of masked man pulling off his mask, and say something in Spanish. Then he prodded Jeff to walk forward guiding Jeff with one hand on the back of his neck through the house.

"What about my ATM card? I could make a withdrawal. I have credit cards. I could do a cash advance."

"Too dangerous. I already sold them. Your bank account is empty and your credit cards have been maxed out."

"Haven't you made enough money?"

"Not enough, one more transaction."

They pushed through another door, and Jeff could hear traffic. Cars drove by. He was in the street. Jeff flung himself backwards into the masked man, knocking him into a wall. He pulled the bag off his head and was face to face with the man -- black hair, square jaw, mustache, and dark eyes. Jeff smashed the man's face with both hands like he was swinging a baseball bat and turned and ran like he was running for first base.

"The man yelled, "And I have been so nice to you," and fired a shot.

Jeff ran through a wrought-iron gate, down the wide streets lined with small one story houses in pastel colors. Panic drove him. He must have run four blocks, then he was so out of breath that he could not run. He saw a little store with a painted red brick second floor and white on the bottom. There was a sign that said, "Seven" in bright orange and black letters. He hobbled into the store. He startled the girl at the counter. "Police, I've been kidnapped," and place his zip-tied hands on the counter.

***

The station looked like an Ice Cream store with its blue and white motif. It had dark blue graffiti spray painted on it. It was lit by lights under the eaves and by a street lamp. Inside was a counter and a desk behind it. Jeff sat the desk. The police captain gave him a cup of coffee in a paper cup. The captain sat opposite him in a black short sleeved uniform, and a big gold badge. He put is beret on the desk. "Mr. McCarthy, your captors have escaped. When we went to the house, and the rooms were empty."

The radio chattered. Another police officer came in from a black, Dodge Ram truck. He wore a bullet proof vest and boots. He handed the captain a plastic trash bag. Out of the bag the captain pulled Jeff's shoes, his smashed cell phone, his keys, wallet, and the black mask. The mask had a comic face, with big green eyebrows and a clown's big smiling lips. It was like it was laughing at him.

Jeff asked, "Can we get DNA from the mask?"

"Please, this is Mexico. We don't have the money for that. Keep it as a souvenir."

"What about my description?"

"This is Mexico. You have described a stereotype of half the country. You've been watching too much TV. Go home, Mr. McCarthy. There is nothing to be done here."

End