Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal
The Dream Ended
In the end of my dream
I found a circle
floating in a lake.
It was winter and a
frozen horse watched its
There was a temple in the
distance, a cloud of
smoke rising above.
The sky filled up with ash.
The day grew darker
and the dream ended.
The rotting eyes of a black dog
stare out at me from a bad dream.
Wilted flowers outline the black
dog. Its gaze puts me in a trance.
I feel nothing. In this bad dream
I bury the dog behind a
pepper tree. There are thousands of
graves in this bad dream. Flowers do
not blossom here. In this bad dream
this is almost hell. I awake
to the loud sound of crickets. I
hear them chirp. It is night still. I
am not sleepy. In the morning
the birds sing from the pepper tree.