Eduardo Dip

Nostálgicamente

Caen las hojas, flores que nacen,
en el medio el frío de la soledad,
un alma se entrega distraída y desnuda
con trazos tan leves igual que su cuerpo
reclamando miradas a orillas del mar.
 
Exiliada en el tiempo aferrada al silencio,
enredada en el aire su mirada clara
flota como el viento entre sentimientos,
brillantes sus ojos son solo recuerdos,
perdona a la vida que se va a destiempo.
 

 

All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Eduardo Dip.
Published on e-Stories.org on 11.09.2012.

 

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