Message
The cobbled street and the water running through the stones forming figures in which famous faces look, the shoes with the soles finished because they have taken hours on the way bill, make feel my feet, one by one square stones. The trees which afforded welcome shade a few days, have started to moult; come, come, rain leaves, I say to the sky, believing that he will give the message of my voice, I throw the cigarette pointing to water lines , failed to launch, follow my path, leaving behind a half-smoked and the smoke rising into the sky, the butt, which will have two or three plone more, turned the corner thinking that maybe, just maybe, in that Smoke is my message to you, being more effective than my voice.
Camilo Andres
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