After the Loss
The circus elephants with colourful coats
and others were left alone in the space behind them,
their marks made of shadow and phosphorous. Birds,
still with a golden thread tied on their feet, fluttered
around the elephants. The birds didn’t sing. Alex said,
I feel sorry for these and those, especially when
the entrance lights are turned off in the moonlight
and the rope is moistened as it stretches on the hooks.
They have hung fifty chairs on a line. There isn’t
any place for anyone to sit. Then they all understand
they need wings: the limping kiosk owner,
the flower shop girl, and the three card players.
Libros Libertad 