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life poem

para mí era concejal gaunt, grave
¡bajo!' tis a la noche de la gala
naranjas de desplume nubian azul-negras
el solo puño apretado levantado y alista
los poetas dicen
para venir tan pronto a esto imaginaba obscuridad
mi alma va revestida en cosas magníficas
el cuerpo puede confinar
dos filas de coles
y como caminamos la hierba fue revuelta débilmente
mi madre me enseñó que cada noche
una milla detrás
soy una mujer
levantado de los muertos

 



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