The sun was flashing from the sand and your eyes
way of the sword;
each port a thorn in each vessel
returned a breath of sunshine
sweating on the forehead ...
- What if I come back, ma'am? -
again, I promise, we will see
peek
leisurely walk like
executioner to the gallows,
I know, I've seen in daydreams
taken from my hand like a child looking
in parks
father's vision and snow;
again, I promise, we'll see
reach the crowd, his face
barley in the prairie
grtiará my name echoing that resonate
reverse
on islands and in the streets, his eyes
be seeing me Tues
at daybreak
our son and our home
cave but not resting in the shade.
