Dappled trout
in evening water,
like slices of rapid light,
glide faster and faster
through hissing silver folds.
In this confused movement
that never stops,
one mistakes
a trout for a stone,
a stone for a trout:
so human souls
speed through crystal
streams of open eyes,
where a soul is taken
for a stone,
and a stone for a soul
hurtling in confusion
to their equal goal.
Trout
© Copyright: Vlanes, 2010
Свидетельство о публикации №110020800189
Свидетельство о публикации №110020800189
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