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short love poem

una milla detrás
sueño dulce en sus sepulcros humildes
ese compañero extraño vino en mezclar pies
los pequeños rezos blancos
en todas las cosas no habladas de
un cielo que nunca ha sabido el sol, la luna o las estrellas
y pan del breaketh no más
resido en la montaña de la tabla
estoy parado en el tiempo gris frío
hace tres años hoy
por la orilla, por el mar
estoy viejo y oculto

 



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