Doctor

Doctor,
beleaguered pieces through tears
grin like the midnight sun.

Distance seem shorter
the horses have stopped
their bitterness,
and remember Flamenco.

Looked for a tree
to sleep under
and remember,
a field of perfumes
an apple by the river
a meeting, I chaired,
like a Che in revolution.

The vines under an oak tree
many sips of conversation
too much space
so little time.

Departed.
Frost crept its icy fingers
into the garden,
sharp, voiceless.

Beleaguered pieces through tears
grin like the midnight sun,
and closed eyed, yearn birth again.
In your arms.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CZJ-QYC2ggE