Molt lluny

Far away,
in the pockets of some old
pants
that my mother kept
-my mother keeps everything-,
I found
the nights we spent
together, friends,
wandering the streets of Xàtiva.
We talked about everything
and about good and evil.
With few things clear:
the uncertainty of the future,
the greed of children.
The summer night walks
I have them in front of me today.
Up and down...