Monday, December 19, 2016

insect's clock

fixed eye on the beetle’s fragile flight
announced in the air briskly
hind legs arched with all their might
and a protective belly
still pulsates its opal mystery
across the living room to a window

shortened route to a sheltered grave
its wings still defy
a shell, engine and its swift soundwave
still timidly high-pitched
if only it could beat its wings back
and learn how to reach
the solid armory from a long-past breath

as long as it avoids
nights filled with sleepless whims

and days shortened of their death.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

por que você só escreve em inglês? língua tão simplória, horrenda e limitada.