But I walk the path
Above the pond.
The clouds are gray
As an x-ray
Of an obscure anatomy.
I know it's useless
To pursue the past
Or retrace my footsteps
In the rain,
Still, a crimson leaf
Is stuck to my shoe
A haunting thought...
The image of you.
La descripción del paisaje, los colores, todo es un reflejo de la voz poética! Hay un sentimiento de nostalgia y tristeza por lo que fue y aún recuerda. Y es que a veces los días son agujeros de ausencias que llenamos con esos fantasmas del pasado que vagan por nuestra mente. Es que hay estaciones que huelen y son como algunas personas. Bonita noche, @johnjgeddes.
You write: The description of the landscape, the colours, everything is a reflection of the poetic voice! There is a feeling of nostalgia and sadness for what it was and still remembers. And sometimes the days are holes of absences that we fill with those ghosts of the past that wander through our mind. Is that there are stations that smell and are like some people. Nice night, @johnjgeddes.
Yes, Nancy, absences make holes within us and we fill these with nostalgia figuring that it represents the past, but in reality, we only succeed in painting out the shadows
Amazing poem And wonderful painting
Wow great poetry... and painting
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Beautiful!
El cuadro es hermoso y se encuentra reflejado en la poesía, la ausencia de ese Alguien en nuestras vidas.