They will not come back swallows
devastated clumsily this yard
Cut of street kicked mud
left behind half nest, empty
A gust all changed
wound in nature bleeds.
The courtyard was late, but beautified
amid the silence, routine rhythms.
Look! again swallows
They found the way, for the same yard.
They built nice again their nest
without lees in their soul
They gave Joy! Life authentic...