movimento

| 8.4.06 | mr pavement | enviar este post por e-mail

voar.

Anónimo 09 abril, 2006 10:37

Morning

You know how it is waking
from a dream certain you can fly
and that someone, long gone, returned

and you are filled with longing,
for a brief moment, to drive off
the road and feel nothing

or to see the loved one and feel
everything. Perhaps one morning,
taking brush to hair you'll wonder

how much of your life you've spent
at this task or signing your name
or rising in fog in near darkness

to ready for work. Day begins
with other people's needs first
and your thoughts disperse like breath.

In the in-between hour, the solitary hour,
before day begins all the world
gradually reappears car by car.

Deborah Ager
Anónimo 09 abril, 2006 14:43

amar.
Anónimo 11 maio, 2006 05:49

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Anónimo 11 maio, 2006 05:49

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