Ram
He leaves the sleepy plain
to wind silver threads and
with his toenails in the pebbles he incises
the noon hours that saw him
adjusting the hat of the pricey odalisque.
Between the equated glances
in the opposing quietness of the other slope
in the swallowing of slave waters and
in the reaper Hades
he stops and ruminates for a moment the silent leaves and
distancing himself a little
like a brute he challenges the shadow of the rocks
Libros Libertad 