Before this was a road, there was a creek -
A channel water carved into the rock.
Now in its stead stands an office block:
A vale of glass, and wood, and yellow brick.
Incidental, short poems in English and Spanish
(lo lamento: mi teclado no tiene acentos!)
"Oh idle reader who with your time regales me
These humble pages will, I hope, amuse -
But should they not, then may at least my Muse
Bestow her grace upon her one-man army"
20 October 2010
09 October 2010
A house not built
This was never a house, though I had all the stones
and beams of oak were ready for the task.
All I was missing was a piece of land
Which was there to be mine if I'd bothered to ask
But sooner I would have broken a bone
or severed with an axe this, my right hand.
The beams I burnt - this didn't keep me warm;
The stones I left, piled up on golden sand.
Landing
The vessel's keel made contact with the sand:
We disembarked, with weapons at the ready.
Our first steps were short, and not steady:
taking the measure of undiscovered land.
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