Morning in Salerno, IV
Despite Sunday’s idleness selling and buying kept going on
at the wooden sheds, big motionless fishes shone
in wide baskets Dried salt sparkling on their gray-rose scales
One of them
for a moment winked his eye at me He opened it again it looked
at me completely round
I was enjoying the cunning of the dead their obvious choice
especially for me – perhaps a secret kinship
perhaps they expected their resurrection from me
The Customs officer
stood officially by the door I pretended not to see him
The hands of course are rapacious animals – they speak more
truthfully than lips
Libros Libertad 