Sunday, June 26, 2011

Easy time

The obelisk,
among the trees that
turned into a desert.
When the sun comes
over its light
becomes music in
the monument’s ears,
trumpets and flutes
play a dream he
will remember when the
sun sets;
when the vision is gone.
Through the night he
will remember the
harmony of the garden,
and sing to it
over and over.


No comments:

Post a Comment