neruda 58

all we do anymore is fight?
i concede. i sail on by
deserted waters, singing.
because it is all i can do.

i pluck a melody across all keys,
rain a storm of unstable notes.
i become slow and wild as nature,
chained with a grounded heart.

they bite my exposed skin,
but i walk on. i sang.
i heard the wind singing too.

my time is fogged in your smell.
in our walks in the deep woods,
in the rain of my childhood.