Walking At Night Poem by Gabyel Rei Guillen

During the night I would usually take my walk.
From here and there, from this place and that place
Footsteps placid against cobbled floors
And I would see this wideness before me,
Untouched, unfilled, unsilenced
The rocks still blooms of earth

The plants attached their roots on the clouds
And brings the passer-by to a separate plane;
To a pause.

The stars fall to sit with solitary benches in solitary stillness
Once more enveloping everything with clarity and song

The grapes clime like ivy on every tree
Filling all with its aroma of sweet soup

And the sun ignites itself in the midway of its solid nights
Just to feed her young fruits

The trees coated in ivory and leaves painted in gold
Adapts herons on its limbs

The ground strode by diminutive creatures
Stalking prey of lions, and buffalos and round substances such as apples

The water gaits on its own green breast
Never minding the shouts of ridicule by workmen on the far side

Over the boundaries, the taverns fill
Of ignorant corpses left in laughter

They make a home in their establishments
And decide to put fences on their gardens

They are but ghost and melancholic beings
Trapped in their own satisfaction

They all end there, at that word.
Lost.
Their footsteps never for once alone
They fill the park benches and make their infants cry
And everyone drowns standing on land.

Seagulls flock lost in the maze of their own voices.