The Wait / Poem
By Franchesa Herrera Marvez
I start my march towards the garden.
My feet obey
the instinct of other eyes.
It only takes a hug
from the earth.
Everything is about to begin.
Tears, flowers, candles,
litanies after litanies
and so
darkness...
How long until you feel
the heat of the worms?
How much
until the next caress of the rain?
Now I live a boat
made of wood and glass,
from here I will look
once again the sky,
its foam and its stars.
A silver face
will kiss the memory
you want to accompany me.
I will wait patiently for the end of the tour.
![post.png](https://steemitimages.com/640x0/https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmT4gdADuEkZPkYo1tNKezUcPwPBdraqEwvTWRrtSBWGJj/post.png)
que bueno tu poema de verdad muy bonito aquí mi apoyo