by Dr. Teresinka Pereira

Poetry is always new,
but it is difficult
to embellish it
to match the occasion.

Meanwhile we can try
an adventure, a brush up
of the time and maybe
we will get it: the dreamed
arc of triomphe!

Night falls and the storm
erases the golden
the distant fruit,
and the lost love;
but the fire remains
in one's blood.

After night falls,
an implacable
and a terrible blow 
comes to show that 
we go on as desert
and virgin as 
the absence.

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