Widow Of Dawn Poem by Julio 2 Amarante

This day of late winter is clear.
Outside the orphan window
Wild pigeons, cuckoos, magpies,
Nobody for Hi-s nor goodbyes,
No bliss, no inspiration nor fear,
Only the late I, personally widow,

Widow of a lifetime light fading,
Free from prejudices,
Not giving any advices,
Widow of a time of futurology
At the table, totally subverted,
Of Meteorology,
Afraid of cold, rain and fantasy
For the powers that be said reality.

Actually, reality is raining on me,
Biometrics reign with a grain
Of insanity,
Not climbing the ladder,
Some say I am mad as a hatter.
Which is actually in the realm
Of Possibility.