It is common our disputes about this and that.
Really, almost daily, we are at opposite sides.
Friends say we are not well-settled a couple,
and so misjudgement, I know, hurts us equally.
In the deeps of night, standing awake in bed,
I look at you asleep and feel all friends’ error.
Who would bear testimony of us, I ask myself.
Walls and roofs surely know our inmost life
but they do not speak, are invalid witnesses.
I ask them if just to me would they say of us.
They say of our confronts, furies, rough words
and revilements but also remember our hugs
and hot kisses. Also, remember having heard
some words like it is cold out, dear, wear your
coat or don’t be late, darling, some little things
only beloved ones are capable to.
They say we are at hard and arduous a battle,
on pursuing, although scarce, a bit of true love.
They also say to keep the route and fear nothing.
Tiles and bricks, indeed, they are, but perceive
unlike my best friends, the very plot of the play.
First published in TWJ Magazine, October 2014.
A Brazilian poet, Edilson Afonso Ferreira, 80, lives in a small town (Formiga-MG) with wife, three sons and a granddaughter and writes in English rather than in Portuguese. Largely published in literary journals, he began writing at age 64. Has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and is the author of 2 Poetry Collections, Lonely Sailor and Joie de Vivre.