The lonely patio in silence
The large house, old,
of old yards
of cold marble
and color of tiles.
There are no more water in their founts,
nor the sun shines in their skies.
The are no more distant murmurs,
that talk about fresh spaces
in the golden morning
and afternoon stars.
The time has passed,
the clouds remain
entangled in their tracts...
The dust covered everything,
even its air of mystery.