POESÍA
So far, so close
I have returned to the lighthouse.
Sitting on the stone bench I sleep
listening to the infinite murmur of memory,
caressing the horizon that is lost in the northwest.
Sitting on the stone bench I sleep
listening to the infinite murmur of memory,
caressing the horizon that is lost in the northwest.
When I woke up I launched into the poem,
swimming in a sea of images
trying to reach the coast of Hugh Town.
swimming in a sea of images
trying to reach the coast of Hugh Town.
So far, so close.
The whisper of the waves keeps me alive,
and in the distance, about to leave the crossing
I see the miraculous flash of the Bishop Rock lighthouse
and I feel your voice, wet with tears
and your embrace without distance.
and in the distance, about to leave the crossing
I see the miraculous flash of the Bishop Rock lighthouse
and I feel your voice, wet with tears
and your embrace without distance.
8 mayo 2020
© Miguel Ángel Blázquez