When the evening
Arrives into the world
I am happy to the core.
The darkness doesn’t flirt nor boast
But consoles in the silent voice
My modest needed heart.
It predicts the coming of the royal
And the stars on the ballroom’s roof
With the pillars called trees,
And most of all, free entrance
For creatures which the day hasn’t
The faintest clue like the light
Doesn’t know the ambiguity
Who teaches the dance steps.
© Yelling Rosa