Pena De Amor Poem by Samuel Santana
Pena De Amor
Yo vi el sueño de la mujer muerta.
Le dolía el alma.
Con sus manos blancas intentaba tocar
las estrellas.
Sí, era una pena grande la que llevaba
en su pecho.
La sentía como las astillas
del relámpago.
Sus lágrimas inundaban los ríos y
apagaron el sol.
Hasta el momento de su muerte,
él la había abandonado.
Samuel Santana
Hartford, abril 2017
Sunday, April 23, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: love
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4/24/2024 4:24:37 AM # 1.0.0.1119
