The Flag
One night of
autumn, years in the past
I began the
construction
of the citadel
of the alert dog
beneath a tree
with a goose in the branches.
During the day I
live in poverty
while in the
moonlight
I sing and play
songs
for the wind,
the stars and you.
One day or
perhaps in the twilight
I will lay down
my pen, instruments and brushes.
I will march out
with my banner and
no weapon nor
armor and
satisfy the fate
no man escapes.
I want you, my
love, to understand
the citadel, the
trees, the roses near the gate and
the deer park are
not for me,
they are for thee.
© Jacob Santiago
García
