Mexican Literature

Herons

Poetry

Imagen de Clker-Free-Vector-Images en Pixabay

Three herons peck a vein, like mosquitoes
Three herons show off their white plumage
Three herons get their beaks ill.

They peck their opaque reflection
On the black water.
(Narcissus
would not have drowned himself there).

The patient is faint, almost dead, we could say it
But the herons continue in the search of veins
Looking for the thread
Staring at themselves in the lifeless skin

Where is the beat?

(This withered body am I? They question themselves)

It’s scary to not find the answers
The herons sadly see their feathers
And their legs shiver
Doze (And in the river, the reeds dance)
Bubble
(The river rises itself up
Shakes its mane
its black hair)
Doze
They are drowning
They bury their beaks
Foam and shine in the dirty water.

Mothers