O mothers give up forever
to hold horses in corrals.
When we stood the sun lowered
into a neighboring hamlet
quivering.
Can’t fight the tears
or the truth or lies
When standing towers stand higher
i, too, exist no longer; my heart beating
my general mouth forcing lips apart.
And i want you to know who i am —
as god from a lofty shoulder sees where
we are going.
Where there’s nothing to believe
and life as fantasy is nothing more
than mysteries — your name.
While we are thinking about tomorrow.
:: 02.20.2022 ::
E.P. Robles | Poetry 