Friday, January 29, 2010

Catherine Wheel

Doña Catalina
had a single gold hair
among her shadowy

(For whom am I waiting,
dear God,
for whom am I waiting?)

Doña Catalina
walks slowly
scattering little green stars
in the night.

(Not here
& not there
but here.)

Doña Catalina:
a grenade of light
dies & is born
on her forehead.


Federico García Lorca

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