High

... above, very high, where the afternoon is fennel and nimbo, mysticism and gold,
Trace and seagulls go crazy with sun and light, of freedom;
... and incessant, and meanwhile, life goes from here to helping, promoting breath
of tiny insects and fish of the river, and, also, the supreme effort to live
from the flowers;
... "One more moment" - I hear - and when looking, zigzagging between air spikes,
A petal falls tearing the soul,
And the rose, to the limit wounded, looks at me and resists, and, still crying,
He dies and smiles.
***
Antonio Justel Rodriguez
https://www.oriondanthoseas.com
***