AMBUSH
I’d always wait by the sea
like other times, like yesterday, like years ago,
phoenix to spring from the ashes again,
a lily among the coldest snow.
To see my reflection in an image
by the shore, longing for the unknown
that comes like the numbness of a sick man
yet slides down to the cane field.
Smoke that rises from the far-away chimney,
a boat arriving without a captain,
without hair waving in the air,
a dream of love, the first and last.
Libros Libertad 