intentions and a poem

 

Today I will just speak to you

about the sound of the water falling,

and of the yellow, dry cattails

that break under my footstep

when I’m sitting down

to see the sun

setting.

 

Tomorrow I will tell you

of the swallows soaring

in the sky, to which i raise my gaze

abandoning the pen that

writes the poem of today,

making it a yesterday.

 

and yesterday I have already written

you a poem:

it’s pinned next to the door

so you won’t forget to smell the wisteria

while walking out to the world.