Ode to Salt

This salt

in the salt cellar

I once saw in the salt mines.

I know

you wont

believe me

but

it sings

salt sings, the skin

of the salt mines

sings

with a mouth smothered

by the earth.

I shivered in those

solitudes

when I heard

the voice

of

the salt

in the desert.

Near Antofagasta

the nitrous

pampa

resounds:

a

broken

voice,

a mournful

song.

In its caves

the salt moans, mountain

of buried light,

translucent cathedral,

crystal of the sea, oblivion

of the waves.

And then on every table

in the world,

salt,

we see your piquant

powder

sprinkling

vital light

upon

our food.

Preserver

of the ancient

holds of ships,

discoverer

on

the high seas,

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