Jornal de Poesia - Antonio Roberval Miketen

Antonio Roberval Miketen

For Simone



						These hands of yours, 

						tiny little hands, 

						seaweeds in the silence, 

						bathed in light: 

						to what encounter, 

						tell me, daughter of mine, 

						to what fate

						the fountain leads them?

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

These hands of yours, tiny little hands, seaweeds in the silence, bathed in light: to what encounter, tell me, daughter of mine, to what fate the fountain leads them?