Archive for December, 2013

Old Letters

JULY 2011 006

At the river, waters moved deep; quietly. A murmur was heard as a sad calling of love; a plea; a cry; a goodbye. They say that time stood-still refusing to move on; stuck on a nameless place, lying by a frozen sleepy body that kept waiting for her lover to come. I sung a lullaby gently, and the lament retrieved; holding onto my tears, swallowing my pride, I prayed for her to cease the waiting; I asked her sadness be soothed, erased with kindness. Overbearing; verbose and chronically defaced – somebody had told her “we have no chance of surviving” the new century without a cultish lexicon; the gadgets of Narcissus and an overdressed personality.

I was very late with my “rescuing” efforts. Her trembling voice witnessed a long pause; I lost my way to your heart, I said, and now that I have found you, I only wish to fall sleep, as well. Out in the cold, I can only said “rest well old friend” … I’ll see you again, in a warmer geography, when the curtains are shuttered tight & the lights go out. The horizon is ours. 

© Leo Campos Aldunez

Edmonton, AB (Canada)

“Love all; trust a few. Do wrong to none.”

– William Shakespeare /