Landslide
On the mountain’s edge
man fears.
The hurricane
and the deafening winds.
Gloomy darkness.
Overflowing rivers,
the mountain roars.
The earth collapses
taking away the houses
and the people in droves.
Without trees,
the enchanted axe
felled them, embracing
death and desolation.
Aura Echeverri Uribe, Colombian. Writer of novels, short stories, and poems. I have published fourteen books: Six novels and eight books of short stories. My first book of poems is with the publisher and will be published soon, and I am currently writing a novel.
That I were to share
My fears, these my airs,
That I were to extend any
Beads counting desolation,
Counting devastation in droves
Then the avalanche with white
Would pour sandy spermatozoa,
Rebirth birth its singularity,
Mesh earth with frozen water —
That ice that darts eye speech
Unto earthly monuments,
Interrogating immeasurable instinct,
To pile and pile a fall
Wayward, with disregard of form,
Inventing new pathways which storm.