7 FRAGANCES

When you try to sort out the shadows of the trees at the edge of the park .

When you wait for the wind to turn your hat around.

When the wet wind insists of spinning your umbrella.

When tears of sadness join sweaty hands.

When the fog reveals summer rain.

When the folds of the face reflect a smile.

When pleasant conversation delicately hides.

At that time, with the smell of sharpening, l sit and wait for the weary sounds of memory.

José Gallego