Calimport

If I ever go back to the sands, the river and the sea...

I´ll learn to fish with the trident, the net, and skillful patience

I´ll stare at the moon in the middle of silence.

I will ask myself if I ever was lost of wandering for so long...

Smell of winter

As the days go by, the road began to smell of winter.

Cold and humid was the air that the wanderer exhaled while walking with the illusion of summer days in the desert port.