Your Voice Peels
You sing, and your voice peels the husk
The sea fills its cellar with footfalls,
But I hear only your voice, your voice
Your voice scatters the highest swords
Pablo Neruda
of the day's grain, your song with the sun and sky,
the pine trees speak with their green tongue:
all the birds of the winter whistle.
with bells, chains, whimpers,
the tools and the metals jangle,
wheels of the caravan creak.
soars with the zing and precision of an arrow,
it drops with the gravity of rain,
and returns with its cargo of violets:
it accompanies me through the sky.
Friday, July 12, 2013
Your Voice Peels by Pablo Neruda
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