poem and photo (Great Mosque, Cordoba, Spain) - © Jesús Montero
And here I am.
In this miserable void,
Sunk in the quick sands
Of this hour.
The pulse of this city
Feeding my soul no more.
Charmed by the dialogue of her past,
Burdened by the fastidious monologue of her present.
And here I am.
Like a stranded Conquistador
Waiting for new conquests.
poem and photo (Great Mosque, Cordoba, Spain) - © Jesús Montero
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GROUND ZERO + 4
London greets me
With an immaculate
White blanket of hope.
White.
White,
Like a blank canvas.
Her streets,
Inviting
Like the unread chapter
Of a favourite book.
London greets me
With the merry tickle
Of snow flakes
On my face.
Unexpected,
Refreshing,
Sudden.
London greets me
With the pleasant
Air of a new dawn.
poem and photo - © Jesús Montero
I, like a flower, start to wither.
Gone are the days when youth
Cried out loud:
Come, come hither!
I, like a flower, start to wither.
All that I’m left with
Leaves in the Fall,
And the snows of Winter.
I, like a flower, start to wither.
Gone are the days when youth
Cried out loud:
Come, come hither!
