North Poem by Noel Sevilla

North



Driven by the wind, the flag points to the west.
Is that where an ancient treasure,
capable of redeeming the external debt,
lies hidden under glass shards? ,
or is it where miss death
with her beauty lures
old men into a trap?

The wind makes a pause
and the flag surrenders
to unheard voices claiming
that north is the best cardinal point.

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