A curated webspace for Poetry, Politics, and Nature with over 20,000 daily subscribers and over 8,000 archived posts.
Antonio Machado Found Dead Crossing the Pyrenees, 1939
In his jacket pocket
nine Spanish words:
these blue skies and
this sun of my youth.
What would I write
before my crossing?
What I see
from the cab window,
what I meet as I walk
to the corner café for
croissant and hot milk-coffee?
A split-shadow on the granite wall
shapes fronds into dark wings.
On the cement walk a little girl teeters
with her thin dog zippered
into a lavender-colored dog coat—
the bell
on her doll’s red and white-
striped stocking cap reminds:
six months from now,
Christmas.
But today the rains have stopped—
sun in Sao Paolo.
~
early, wheat, honey, Sanlúcar, Spain
I sit on a straight-backed
white wood chair
the back bedroom
Charo’s Sanlúcar home
I need
village life with its
bleached jasmine patios
long pastures with horse
bull the sea
near the fountain
stops as shrill
bat shadows pierce
saffron silence I need
crawling
cloud claws
blunt
midnight bells—
like the baker
I knead—
temprano / trigo / miel /
memory into loaves
Copyright 2023 Gail Langstroth
Gail Langstroth is an international eurythmy performer, translator, poet and film artist. In 2020, Get Fresh Books released Langstroth’s bilingual firegarden / jardín-de-fuego. In October 2023, Before Now / After I, an exhibition of Langstroth’s visual art opens in Hamburg, Germany.

Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
La poesía es como la paloma en el corazón que necesita volar.
LikeLike
Poemas muy hermosos.
LikeLike