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religious poem

mi madre me trenza las rosas mojadas con rocío
de'bil-se va volando la canción
si era muy seguro
en alguna parte leí un cuento extraño, viejo, oxidado
cuando voy de nuevo a la tierra
le hizo ven siempre un cocodrilo
un pequeño melocotón en la huerta creció
soy cansado de ser amargo y cansado de ser sabio
no cuelgue ninguna guirnalda
asustado no más, digo
ochenta años han pasado, y más

 



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