Mist came after the thunder
Sleep came to us all
All the children
Lay in a row wrapped in cloth
...
One by one they feel
The cold sharp blade of indifference
One by one they fell
Gathered up by
...
Blood flows under bomb blast
Concrete tears nightmare fear mothers hear this
Child dresses doll in black
...
Only at full moon
Deathly pale
...
My melancholy stains the day
Litters these streets empty and hollow of sound
This heaviness weighs on as
City horses myopic and deaf
...
I allowed myself
To be myself
Never realizing that I have
No self to allow,
...
Now on the gravel lie
River rock and mayfly passion
A moment alone
A sliver of solitude
...
Broken and tired on
An autumn morning
I slipped on the golden wet leaves of a sleeping tree
With a fire locked in my bones
...
Who knew where Lorca lay on his final day
Where the duende found its rest
Only fire blooms there
Persistent and impatient
...