To Dante and Petrarch
Now I understand
and may call you "comrades,"
you for whom the earth's one reality
was the thing most unattainable,
in which are found the colors,
the language, that can paint
the landscape of the heart.
Though a nameless novice,
I intuit the clasp of your hands
across the centuries, on the page
where you have poured out
your voiceless ardor.
© Leticia Austria 2007
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