Naked and immense
The ruins stare at me.
Here the evenings are still born children
And the rain if falls at all is
light as a grasshopper.
I have my notions about other ruins,
but this one makes me search myself.
Each cry I utter is lost in the limitless space
then it gathers speed and hits the
frozen walls breaking into an echo.
Perhaps, the story I’m looking for
is buried beneath the mosaics and
in the whispering of the lizards.
Perhaps, it is there when the
first star shines and the
gods of night draw their curtain
over moon-drenched pillars.