Ocean’s March
Winter caught up with us all alone
in the small green seaside house
The deserted balconies
and on the pale seashore
the fog walks noiselessly
Decay of yellow leaves
silent death of chrysalis –
the seaweed blocking doors and roads
verdant memory of cypresses
At the turn of the road the shadow of silence
We saw through the window the last
summer visitors leaving
and the small caique with the empty baskets
Ships sleep in the harbor
and the ash-colored flags of wind
are fluttering on naked masts
In a little while the sorrowful rain
will come
to cleanse the lyric names
the childish plans
and the sea reflections
from the summer boats
With the light of lightning
we’ll read fate
in our open palm
and we won’t have
not even a word to feed loneliness
not even two crumbs
to feed the few sparrows
dying by the deserted road
The dock trees
slant and alone
in the looted twilight
– wooden busts of summer
Libros Libertad 