Vicente Gómez Quiles

SEGORBE

Alto Palancia, mi sombra amiga.
Olivos del fértil valle, encinas...

Segorbe: crepúsculo de piedra
dando forma al aire en pinceladas
suaves, mojas mi garganta seca;
acunas la palabra precisa.

Acuarelas verdes, fantasía.
Rumor en las albas siempre bellas.

He visto la puerta de Verónica,
las torres de Botxí y de la Cárcel,
la glorieta Botánico Pau
ancladas en la frágil nostalgia.

Y el aire se llenó de peces
sobre un ramillete de lágrimas.

 

All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Vicente Gómez Quiles.
Published on e-Stories.org on 06/26/2011.

 

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