POEM 6 (Prose Poems)

POEM 6

When you saw my hands don’t get the flashback thunder of my working days on the steel around my friends I see a liquid photograph when the rain stopped the hours and delay the flies in a dark sleep. Where are they now? Driving to the limit of the way where the sunlight turn on the river-stone-eyes when you see my hands don’t remember my last job and I don’t be like you so tell me what ink of memory that not will be erase by the time waves…

parte del Book Two (prose poems) del libro "The Traveling Man" (2001)