THE NAKED WILLOWS (AMIDST THE SILENT OCTOBER MORNING)

THE NAKED WILLOWS (AMIDST THE OCTOBER MORNING)

Tearful rains in high ground

amidst the silent October morning

passion sifted through the trees

the poet's heart repelled.

A flutter of leaves and Puritan prayers

the lonely beings gathered mortal

questioned by spontaneity

at dawn's last hour.

A walk brisk by the spring

as into a brook desired

the pebbles that trickled like thoughts

as now cold wind of angst

brittle small hands and flowers

amidst the October morning.

The pedantic ocre bloom'd

across the bridges

and the walk resumed

as once upon a times 

amidst an October that was mourning.

And open silence pallid falls to rest

amongst the lake shores inhaled

a counterpoint of voices swelled

like the whale's scarred back

derives the presence of mystery token

as from curious child-like eyes peek

through a broken leaf

and shout to the languid mother

in cinematic amazement, the management,

oh the management, how to discover dimensions four fold

nestled in the utter of autumn mo(u)rning.

A run against the wind

screams stabbing face, face stabbing horizons

the pang of heart beats like a machine, oh a machine

a bee sting and a red beetle lost

are the unknown dream at daybreak, daybreak.

The struggle of everything, all that is a thing in your dream

perned anatomy in subtle shift, the statue's lean

like Fragonard trees in a distance

of us, you and I 

in no hurry

the learn'd stars

of a knitted sky

perhaps offering origins and the orgasm of clouds

immense

askance the end of a long farewell.

__________________________________________

by carlos mijares poyer

written in English, February 3, 1993, Havana, Cuba.