By: Isabel Crespo

With a clear-cut breath
(Her) head ducked down
Dodging the red-light stare

With her teeth-clenched, hands
Holding key-and-lock jaw
Silhouetted in the day-light glare

She came to a halt
Just a small, brief pause
(Only long enough to catch her breath)

And the only thing she heard
Was a faint, forgotten word
Just a hiccup in the wind
Slowly sliding down her chin

And as she reached out,
Its edges blurred.

Isabel Crespo is a United States-born Costa Rican-Ecuadorian vocalist, composer, arranger, and educator currently living in Denton, TX. Although she is currently pursuing a career in music, Crespo often writes poetry as a reflection on personal events, global events, and visual art.
Being both a lyricist and an amateur poet brings profundity into Crespo’s lyrics and musicality into her poems. Her work explores both form and structure (which are present in both music and in poetry), as well as strong imagery and metaphor.