Aleksandar Obradovic Poems
- A Ghost Of Buenos Aires I turn my face sunward Wind blows ...
- Here I Can Sit Here I can sit And watch A palm tree I can ...
- Hollies Smiling As blood kept Dripping On yellow tiles
- Tables Are Ready Tables are ready, Huge plates of stone, ...
- You'Re Leaving You're leaving, after years of love, in ...
- Dear Mary For Mary Crow Two weeks before I came to ...
- Army Boy The pillow's still indented, Sheets creased, cover...
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A Ghost Of Buenos Aires
I turn my face sunward
Wind blows golden sand:
A gold mask
Scorches, cools, dazzles,
In deep shadows hides
I walk, turn my face toward buildings,
Parks, the sea in the distance
Eyes passing by
I caress hairs,
Perfect bodies underneath flowers
A sailor salutes,
Buenos Aires grows in eyes
Of a blind poet, multiplies
But I’m not
Not even like this tree
For lovers’ names to be carved onto me