Bends and Curves
Isn't it ironicthat I'm writing a poem
that I don't have anything to say
that I mentioned everything in the last book
which is out of print
because the publisher is in exile
living in my house in the tree.
Isn't it beautiful
the way the tree bends and curves
impressions fron its youth,
the way the sun
shines through its leaves
from which water
sprinkles down to the earth
from which it flow.
Isn't it ironic that I'm writning this poem
on the paper from the tree
that bends and curves
flows like the water through its roots.
Water sprinkles from its leaves
Leaves fall to the earth
I drink from the earth, too.
(c) Centeno1996
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