sábado, 17 de noviembre de 2012



Bugs come and go
From and to darkness
Visible to me their erratic fly
Just for an instant

By the side of the bonfire
Is confortable and warm
And I'm trying to guess why:
Mating? feeding? playing?

Exploring a new star?
You know: "bugs love lights"
Even Goethe at his  deathbed
Asked for more of them

What a pitty
Sunlight is so disperse
After down I shall see
Of what skylarks feed

VABM 17/11/2012

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