Under the Walnut Trees
As a child I used to spin with my arms outstretched
under walnut trees until I was dizzy and beyond,
curious of what come next,
what intoxication would be born
in my guts after the dizziness.
And I didn’t know where I was,
what dome the sky, the trees, were building over me,
on a living little corpse with a few more decades
of joy and suffering waiting before
his ashes will be scattered
in other gardens, under some other trees.
Libros Libertad 