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friend poetry

nosotros que estaban parados
debajo de mi ventana en una calle de la ciudad
en alguna parte leí un cuento extraño, viejo, oxidado
vi los archangels en mi manzana-a'rbol ayer por la noche
por las mañanas nube-grises
podríamos sino saber
el existir del cisne
resido en la montaña de la tabla
dentro de este sepulcro humilde un conqueror miente
mientras que estaba parado escuchar, discreto mudo
el sol está para arriba
lo vi una vez antes
pensamientos a través de mi cabeza

 



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