Under the Poplars

 Like priestly imprisoned poets, the poplars of blood have fallen asleep. On the hills, the flocks of Bethlehem chew arias of grass at sunset.       The ancient shepherd, who shivers at the last martyrdoms of light, in his Easter eyes has caught a purebred flock of stars.       Formed in orphanhood, he goes down with rumors of … Continue reading Under the Poplars

Humbled

Truth comes to everyone in the darkness We rest our heads on pillows often damp with tears Flashes of past traumas, play out in our mind Buried memories, of another time Always there, always hidden They know what lies in the soul How to appear, and when A little reminder of scenes once forgot Like … Continue reading Humbled