Holidays- by Juan M.S

For a moment, while I read through my thoughts

I vacation to the remotest confines of the unexpected,

and I need no trekking boots to explore the limits

of the impossible,

and in the gloomiest place at the gloomiest hour

I become the sun you look for in Spain

or that freshness that fills your lungs in the Alps,

and I smile at your innocent way

of finding beauty

around you,

while I can find it

in you,

in my words,

and can shape it

to my taste

while I can’t sleep from the excitement

of doing nothing.


I'm a writer born in Argentina, but currently living in Poland. I work as an English and French teacher, translator and copywriter.

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