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thanksgiving poetry

entre el humo y la niebla de una tarde de diciembre
amo mi hora del viento y de la luz
nunca habĂ­a un sonido al lado de la madera pero de una
la lluvia encima, y el aire brillante
oscilado en la horquilla del profundo
noche misteriosa
no me quemo ningĂşn incienso
la pienso espléndido justo
los cielos que eran ashen y sobrio
el amanecer era verde
arrojé mi alma al aire como un vuelo del halcón
sacudaro mi pelo en el viento de la mañana

 



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