Gums Are White Where Tooth Was Pulled

I was bicycling to school



... The central street was possible and I stood driven costs. A wind swept the old ladies hats. Not hurt the Canes gentle gentlemen. And lit up like a rose of hope, and just kiss on the cheek of the innocent. Trees in a row was a stationary steam delicately suspended beneath the blue. And I almost already in the air, I rushed passed on my bike and I smiled ... I remember well how mysteriously folded my wings on the very threshold of the school.
Excerpt from the poem "The College" author Vicente Aleixandre, extracted from the web. Nora
Lanzieri Stock