if neruda comes to my door
>> Sunday, March 13, 2011
if neruda comes to my door
i have taken to tending
the flowers - lilacs, roses
cerises - on the verge of
wintering should weeds and
moss, viridian and wayward,
find deliverance from my
devotion
if neruda comes to my door
i have set sail, in my boat
of old wood and brown, to the
galapagos, home of waiting
and passing, to play with
penguins and frolic along
primordial shores to forget
autumn
if neruda comes to my door
i am away in a fishing village
ogling the fresh catch, wide
eyed and squirming inside
frayed nets, and recalling
cravings for affairs unended
like the rustic red sunsets i
desire
if he does not, in the greying
light, by my window overlooking
the sea, velvety and deep blue,
i shall wait for him. and wait
but
if neruda comes to my door
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2 comments:
This is just beautiful! It was Neruda who drew me here and your words that made me smile.
Glad you like this little ode to the great man of poetry. Thanks for reading :D
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