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Pablo Neruda Told Me
May 12, 2014
What is poetry? Well,
sometimes, when I feel so utterly
spent, a little friend of mine
will raise his brows
from the shelf. He knows
many things, or seems to
at least. He’d c*** his jaw
and beckon me over for tea;
he even lets me pick the flavour!
So we’d sit on the balcony of his villa
and talk about everything
and anything in something
and sometimes
I get a real feeling about it.
© Krystina B., Milford, CT
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