 |
|||||||
|
|||||||
| PEDRO TREVINO-RAMIREZ | |
|
|
|
 |
Hungarian Path The sun never spreads the ground here. Wildlife in estrus wants only sleep, ersatz night composes green pine white, the ground a cavern. Somehow we came here together; I stay now in the dark. A waterfall is in perpetual spill, near, near. Its coming and going is a split spoke on a tire no one rolls; its splendor is cached, laid under the trees. This is Hungarian Path. I come here to find light. |
|
© 2003 Pedro Trevino-Ramirez. All rights reserved. |
|
 |
|
|
Featured Poetry Christ Did Not KnowBefore I Knew Sandra Danses sexuelles; in Praise of Anne I am the Scarecrow Under Harvest Moon Sijo #1 Tempest Cerulean Tinder Child Josey Cuervo
|
|
