Poems of the air,
words of the wind.
Air that slips away from us.
Words in rows,
pearls shaped into letters.
Stories already dead,
fragments now hollow,
emptiness from my soul,
left in the stubble of verses
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Poemas del aire,
palabras del viento.
Aire que se nos va.
Palabras en hileras,
perlas en las letras.
Historias ya muertas,
de trozos ya huecos,
vacíos de mi alma,
en rastrojos de versos.
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Author:
Carlos Alberto BUSTILLOS (
Offline) - Published: January 29th, 2026 15:59
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 5
- Users favorite of this poem: Friendship
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Comments2
Nicely said. Your poem explores the transient nature of words and expressions, reflecting on the ephemeral quality of thoughts and emotions. It suggests a sense of loss and emptiness in the act of creation, where the poet grapples with the mortality of stories and the struggle to capture meaning.
Most poetic, this one utilizes wonderful images
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