In the Blue Wind
In the wind I climb the stairs
Of my memory
And I’m born many times
From both sides of my mother—
The fountain and the arrow
I’m born in the hands
Of a lost angel
Who looks for my father
The earth is not my home
I live in the spaces
Between words and voices
In the blue wind
We only know
Half of our exile.
Run, Dogs
Dogs run across the ground
That fills my body
I pray for a witness who hears
My own whispers
Then leaves searching
For my wife in her dream
When the dogs find me
They are going to pin my face
To a wave of trees
And they will sing to me
The name of my wife.
Memorysticks
The old man knows less and less
The grass sleeps in his mind
When the tigers come
The imagined children
Are not frightened
If the branches that fell upon the ground
Contain all time
Then we carry them
To the fires of winter.
Museum in Silver
I remain here in the eyes of the other
I am milk and lost bread
The voice within
Leaf within
Stone within
Calm yourself
The girl wants to play in my memory of salt
A rumor of snow outside of my thought
How am I to believe my own voice
The mouths come and go jabbering
My daughter dreams in the shadow
Of a blue bicycle
I remember when I had a face
Novena in My Mind
The purpled mother of the streets
Is so crucial,
A glass of wine abandoned
Beneath a gray window,
The memory of a laughing daughter.
In the novena of my mind
The animals are sad
And unable to name themselves.
The mountains are graves for the stars,
It happens that I sleep between the two.
The secrets of my skin
Have awakened themselves
And I am not lost.
What’s most important
Is the quality of the gathered silence.
Gray
In the gray of the untitled book
I take away my cup from the window
And wait for everything and nothing
For everything is gray as is nothing
Some people can leave and weep
And say nothing
Hoping that dreams may kill time
I have a broken clock
And a river of thinking
And not much more
Between my gray face
And everything and nothing.