Friday, February 3, 2012
José Manuel Arango / Writing
WRITING
By José Manuel Arango
Translated by Nicolás Suescún
night, like an animal
left its breath on my window
between the needles of the cold
I look at the trees
and in the misty glass
with my index finger, I write
this ephemeral word
No comments:
Post a Comment
Newer Post
Older Post
Home
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment