Poppies Had the Color of Blood

By the time he reached the village The bells of the old church Were beating like a heart In a sick chest He had the same old obsessions That a wise philosopher Used to call extreme ideas About angels with human faces God sent to save humanity All alone He found himself in the arms of the wind When she took her last breath All the sad eyes of heavens Begun to mourn On the field near the bridge Poppies had the color of blood Like the painflowers Crowns of sadness Over a cross