This Time, I Was Searching for Love
This time I was searching for love
among the huts, the old houses,
among the creaking poles and ropes.
A boat, a caique that will no longer sail,
creaks and smells, imagining there’s still something it might catch.
The fine rain draws in the darkness,
an eagle beats its wings,
rubbing them so as not to doze off.
The day murmurs,
gently drifting away to fulfill the port’s yet-unspoken demands.
Nothing moves—
now the sand and the sea are asleep,
the waves have gone.
That is all. I am alone.
Walking, spreading my cloak,
still hopelessly hoping to reach the end,
clutching one final, final lament.
