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La Fonte

La Fonte

You borrowed San Juan de la Cruz and kept it.
I saw it again when you returned from the West.
It looked like it had fallen in the mud
with some pages stuck together like a book
kept mouldering in a cellar
and though now dry still marked
by the past days’ dark. I thought of my heart.
Tonight you came, took my guitar and sang
La Fonte saying you learned it from the book
I’d given or you’d taken.
What more could I want from you or anything?
Happy you sing. Happily I listen.


  1. Phil Kanyonyozi
    Posted 10 Sep ’12 at 7:04 am | Permalink

    Interesting indeed.

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