Antonio Justel Rodriguez


... and no, no one will come here anymore, no one will spend their afternoons in the autumn sun
nor will repair the damage of time and silence, no one,
nor will anyone remember that right there, under the plum trees and the willows,
I fathered my son;
... the wind will go howling in winter, and even the wolves, the crows and the mists
they will pass wounded by loneliness and will go very far,
for they will fear their encounter with the immense anguish
that exhale the doors and the broken stones, the fallen eaves,
the hostile and abandoned land;
no one will find the trace of an almond tree in blossom,
nobody the sea,
nobody a path,
no one, no one a light;
... and if this enormous damage results in the chest, without further ado, irreparable,
a wound of love, atrocious and revived, seizes its pain and devastates the words.
Antonio Justel

All rights belong to its author. It was published on by demand of Antonio Justel Rodriguez.
Published on on 01/25/2023.


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