To Forget

The roads I walk separate me from events

the path to follow

is the one that separates me from the meaning of events

then

I stopped talking to the birds about flying

only then

I started talking with flying about birds

enlightened by age

wisdom becomes a good friend

of my soul

I am waiting that the pure dawn

chase away

my last fears

to forget the confused look

of the one that stopped me

on the street to ask me

how old I was

to forget those eyes

in which the flames of two candles

were flickering

in search of a place

where they can die out