The Sun

arrives again

empty of light

full of talk

so much talk

it becomes real and loud conversations

and the entire L-shaped house

its furniture

its décor

its yellow walls

just there

all these years

dull and dark…

and all day

I see myself

all the time…

but there are

some moments…

like a tiny opening…

and then pure sky

the escape

at last

flying forgetting…

and refreshed

with birds in my hair

I return

to my father’s chair

by the window

and the wind blows

and blows

making my head roll

over and over

until I am blown over

to my father’s bed

and the night then

arrives beautiful

with all its lights

full of desire

and gathers me up

in her arms

taking me entranced

through all the beds

I’ve slept in

down to my mother’s womb

and beyond that

O I am blown

till I am no more

and the lights

slowly go out

in my eyes

and I sleep.

 

The above poem is from my third ebook The Branches (2015).

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