today the sky wears a lone bird like a hairpin sent by a lover from another border. under this i breathe, among the grasses that touch my skirt with their hands, forever among trees I climbed up as a child only to climb down an old man. like me, the trees wear their age on their crooked spine but here where I can comb the wind's wild hair with my old fingers here among silver oaks and wild strawberries i wake up with white jasmines in my mouth
