Murder!

Last night I was taking my daily walk along the clifftop bordering the mighty Pacific. On my way, as usual, I passed the statue of the Peruvian poet, Antonio Cisneros. I always put a flower in his top jacket pocket, but on this particular evening, someone had beaten me to it. This is often the case! However, I was tempted, once again, to take a photo of the poet and his flower.

When I pass by, my memory always goes back to the murder…….yes……. the evening …  I……. I ……. (gulp) ……… murdered……. yes…… murdered  one of his poems in front of his very eyes….. and worse still, in front of  his very  ears.

In order to share my guilty and cultural paín, here is my post which relates the happening on that fateful evening.

The Murder of a Poem