... I rode the steed of thought,
went through long tunnels of memory,
pretending to know me again ...
......
- There were olive trees, ancient temples,
gutted by relentless time.
They looked like ghosts, resistant
where I gathered the moss of my inner past.
D'lush paths walked past,
fruity myrtle, flowering rosemary.
There was also a pungent odor,
intoxicating, the mimosa jasmine flow...
Friday, July 15, 2011
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
