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25 de Marzo, 2007
Querida Primavera, Ella Regresa
Categorized under Poesía | Tags:
IT'S THE END
again
of frozen hope
and these nights we've spent slit and oiled in smoke
layered tight inside the greening yoke
of a slowly
unclenching
winter
it's a time of broadening leaves
and spongy, aromatic streets
it's a horizon tide brimming like the wet of a melon
and my toes touching down upon moistened concrete
(here, the hot hand of wind
and the bulbroot of spring
there, the flex of the river
where the clouds swell
again)
even golden with the light the land is half the time spattered
with a cool silver rhythm of rain like sunshine swept to earth in bluish rays
la primavera, ella regresa
she undoes the curb corners with a mossy green marker
he smiles each morning just to see she remembers
she weeps almost nightly
while the flowers sigh sweetly
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Comentarios (1)
L.G. Fucktard dijo:
Which reminds me
.
.
.
Palabras por L.G. Fucktard spat forth on el 26 de Marzo, 2007 at 07:55 AM