poem9.
from 7
Pablo Neruda
Even in these steep
years
with a clear view of
the mountain range of my life
after having
climbed
the vertical snow
and reched
the diaphanous plateau
of unwavering light
I see you
near the snail-peddling sea
hoarding pinches
of sand
wasting time with
birds
that wing across
a marine loneliness
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