Poems of Francisco Borrás Marimón

CLOUDS White, grey clouds.Sometimes black…Of soft cotton.Of silk wrapped And always beautiful. They play, they shineand hide the sun.Their form, flirtatious, they vary.They run, sing and laughand through the blue they sail. When the wind hurts themthey wear a black cloakwhich their sadness proclaimswith loud thunderand rain that they weepand pour down. A FEATHER IN AUTUMN Today you looked agile, soft, […]

Read more