A Short Story
by David Escobar Galindo
trans. by Jorge D. Piche
The ant climbs up a trunk
carrying a petal on its back;
and if you look closely
that petal is as big as a house
especially compared to the ant that
carries it so olympically.
You ask me: Why couldn't I carry
a petal twice as big as my body and my head?
Ah, but you can, little girl,
but not petals from a dahlia,
rather boxes full of thoughts
and loads of magic hours, and
a wagon of clear dreams, and
a big castle with its fairies:
all the petals that form the soul of
a little girl who speaks and speaks . . . !
love, mom
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always love to hear what is on your mind . . . peace