mi cesta llena de moras

Happy. Just in my swim shorts, barefooted, wild-haired, in the red fire dark, singing, swigging wine, spitting, jumping, running—that's the way to live.

Notes

Brethren

A woodpecker hammers
On the gutter of a nursing home 
Where the war cripple sits
In a wheelchair by the gate.

The windows are wide open, 
But no one ever speaks here,
Neither about the crazy bird,
Nor about that other war.

Charles Simic