THE UNICORN
In the sepia dusk
the unicorn comes to speak,
the twilight shadows lighten up
every retreat,
the corridors, the trees,
the birds in the nests
and the mind at rest
quietly stirs.
The unicorn shakes
the unreal horn
carried painfully on its crown.
Fabulous Unicorn,
you are no myth;
in the evening breeze
nothing could be more real
than a Unicorn,
its wings and the horned brow,
the illusions and the reality.
In the sepia dusk
the unicorn comes to speak,
the twilight shadows lighten up
every retreat,
the corridors, the trees,
the birds in the nests
and the mind at rest
quietly stirs.
The unicorn shakes
the unreal horn
carried painfully on its crown.
Fabulous Unicorn,
you are no myth;
in the evening breeze
nothing could be more real
than a Unicorn,
its wings and the horned brow,
the illusions and the reality.
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