HIGHS

...high above, very high, where the afternoon is fennel and halo, mysticism and gold,
swifts and seagulls go mad with sun and light, with freedom;
...and incessantly, and meanwhile, life goes here and there, helping, propelling the breath
of tiny insects and little fish in the river, and, likewise, the supreme effort to live
of the flowers;
... "one more moment," I hear someone say, and as I look, zigzagging through the sharp edges of the air,
a petal falls, rending my soul,
and the rose, wounded to the limit, looks at me and resists, and, even weeping,
dies and smiles.
***
Antonio Justel/Orion de Panthoseas
<https://oriondepanthoseas.com>
[On sale: “All the Fires” - Casa del Libro and Amazon: htps://amzn.eu/d/1vWd028]
***