Let´s find new chalk <br />for the spring coming, <br />burning ideas, <br />more wood, please. <br /> <br />Let´s make doves fly. <br /> <br />We are lonely <br />next to the path <br />to get a sight <br />of that huge Christ image. <br />Stern stone gaze <br />towards that forgotten margin <br />of the city, <br />where hard-boiled kids <br />keep their hearts locked, <br />pretending to be something <br />that cannot possibly be. <br /> <br /> Is it a blessing those open arms? <br /> <br />The north wind breaks on the hills <br />and wistles notes hard to swallow <br />for the pure ears of those <br />who can´t smile <br />and throw stones. <br /> <br />Old chalk dust, <br />Where is the wood? <br /> <br />It is still cold in spring. <br /> <br />Wood keeps burning <br />but it´s no use.<br /><br />Luis Gil de la Puente<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/7-burning-burning-burnt/
