sexta-feira, janeiro 26, 2007

The Balcony

Pass my parents bedroom
Out the windowed double wooden doors
I stand once again, absent minded,
Overseeing my hometown bay.

The summer sun yawns
Tilting every shadow, stretching,
Waking the late afternoon birds
On a winged chirping frenzy.

The trees whisper along with the breeze
Giggling with green and bright fireworks
As the worn yellow sunset light
Tickles through the leaves.

Sea and sky almost fuse together
As the moon darkens the sky
Reddening the clouds
With the Sun’s last brushwork.

I can still smell my mother’s flowers
And that clear chlorophyll scent
But they’ve all lost their colours;
Nothing more than vague shadows.

Gonçalo Taipa Teixeira