Luis Gil de la Puente - (2) November

That was the end
of the eleventh month,
wild geese
going south.

You looked up
to the sky
and said:
If I had wings,
I would explore
new territories,
too.

I would settle
on a beach.
Perhaps,
I could forget
these city walls,
these people.

I just asked you
one question:
Why are we
so unhappy?

If she had died
one month later,
she would have seen
snow
in our garden.

We kept talking
When the dark angels
Who took her,
took away
the sunshine.

That was
the end of it
Wild geese
going south.

Bernardo Atxaga

Luis Gil de la Puente

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/2-november/