de visiera cahida


in crowded streets
at home we think
shares our love
bathes in the sun.
Beside the torrents
we look for the fish
unable to swim
we toss a coin for a wish
In the fountain of Trevi
the Tête or Douro
down from the mountains
from the depth of our soul
Washing our flesh
we want finally to be whole
Clouds create shadows
Darkness brings fears
Storms scare our happiness
Hard rains, biting tears
Turning the earth
churns up the wind
Blowing our boat
toward the cliffs
and the stones
Together we press
our hands and our hearts
when the winds chase the clouds
we won’t be alone.

Dr T.P. Wilkinson writes, teaches History and English, directs theatre and coaches cricket between the cradles of Heine and Saramago. He is author of Unbecoming American: A War Memoir and also Church Clothes, Land, Mission and the End of Apartheid in South Africa. Read other articles by T.P..