i see the sun <br />set in Monte Alegre <br /> <br />A White brow <br />framed by the window <br /> <br />long white hair <br />flowing like a polluted river <br /> <br />upon the neck of <br />an old woman <br /> <br />holding a cane <br />such trembling hands <br /> <br />worn out <br />stopping on the edge <br /> <br />of uncut fingernails <br />eyes <br /> <br />fixed upon <br />the nothingness that <br /> <br />i, who sit there, <br />am, beginning to see <br /> <br />it is not horrible <br />darkness creeping <br /> <br />upon the black thigh <br />dry blood <br /> <br />scarlet night <br />dead in Monte Alegre<br /><br />RIC S. BASTASA<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/one-night-in-monte-alegre/
