One thought on “It Is Pablo Neruda Week (It Is A Good Week).

  1. Neruda

    Fires of birds
    swim from the dust of his feet
    and he tells me
    the journey’s just begun.

    His socks lie warm
    near my bed
    next to locomotives of steaming villages
    in a pot of stones and blue sky.

    A stream of feathers and clocks
    ask me where he has gone
    I tell them
    he is sleeping in libraries
    between oranges and melons

    I tell them
    tomorrow he will walk
    in countrysides of mirrors and dreams

    when they find him
    their mouths will be filled with canaries
    a dance of bones
    will whistle
    when he is near.

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