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Wednesday, September 13, 2023

Downtown



Near the chaos
of a big city
I met a man.
On a narrow street,
forgotten,
like a bloodless vessel 
in the heart of the city
of the hidden angels.

The man with sharp wit
inquisitive mind
blue shirt
surrounded by pigeons
like a renaissance painting, 
sat invisible,
amidst the Asturian architecture.

He pulled a chair,
I quietly sat.

When a man
talks about his son
one should always listen:
my son the musician
my son the artist,
the genius, the soulful,
the embodiment of an ideal;
my daughter 
the producer, the writer,
the unrelenting warrior -
my heart
begins pondering my own story.

You can easily measure 
the stature of a man
when he,
unaware of his own stature,
is busy elevating others.

When you walk away 
from such a man
you can no longer hide
the smallness inside:
I’m filled with tomorrows
haunted by the yesteryears 
unaware of beauty,
beneath my feet,
unnoticed,
a few blocks from my home.

In the past
I hurt for men,
sleeping on the edge of buildings
sometimes
so forgotten by themselves that
they fall short,
and lie
on sidewalks
on the edge of the street.

I hurt for them no more,
and I no longer float on clouds
my generous heart creates.

Today I met a man
who wanted nothing from me,
and as I walked away
I finally embraced 
all the lost souls in the city:
the homeless, the destitute,
prostitutes, thieves, beggars.

They are no longer
the pitiful
the sorrowful,
the forgotten,
they are what they always were:
they are me,
reflected everywhere.