a morte da palavra honesta
sucedeu o solstício de inverno
com a chegada
dos primeiros ventos
abandonada a casa
fechada a porta.
veio julho
desviamos os olhos
mas os espelhos
não mentiriam.
esquecemos os sonhos.
perdemos o caminho.
the death of the honest word
happened right after
winter solstice
the coming of the first wind
a house left behind
a door closed.
it was July
we looked away
mirrors wouldn't lie,
though.
dreams had been forgotten.
the road had been lost.
(To Poets United and Jingle Poetry)
"Veio julho...esquecemos os sonhos, perdemos o caminho"
ReplyDeleteEntão que se faça novos sonhos. Ao menos, é o que tento fazer.
Beijos carinhosos
May
É o começo do encontro: caminhos perdidos é sinal de novo rumo! :-)
ReplyDeletebeijos,
Novos inícios são sempre maravilhosos e desafiadores!
ReplyDeleteenjoyed reading
ReplyDeleteWonderful writing. Very enjoyable!
ReplyDeleteYou leave us to fill in the story of before the solstice. A great technique.
ReplyDeletesmart word play.
ReplyDeletelove the message.
a gem.
Such a melancholy mood you have created here at the turn of the seasons, the fluctuation of relationships.
ReplyDeleteAnd thats life ! sigh !
ReplyDeletekeep walking!
ReplyDelete;)
adventure comes from walking/outgoing, keep it up.
ReplyDeleteDear Kenia
ReplyDeleteIt was a powerful read... and your lines ...
'the coming of the first wind
a house left behind
a door closed.'
... touched me deeply... and then the ending took my breath away... lovely.
Thanks for joining in the Poetry Potluck WK 43, which I am hosting for the first time, this week. Hope you have enjoyed it and I look forward to seeing you next week too with your lovely poetry...
Shashi
ॐ नमः शिवाय
Om Namah Shivaya
http://shadowdancingwithmind.blogspot.com/2011/07/whispers-cuckoos-song-and-smell-of-love.html
At Twitter @VerseEveryDay
Sometimes things change, and people must choose a different path.
ReplyDelete