I returned on my steps many times, especially authors reread almost forgotten, isolated in the halo of the academic halls in the dusty shelves, visited only by the hands of the wind and looked distracted and lazy. It is not my case, I put it bluntly, but without vanity. I go every day to humble site where I place in alphabetical symmetry all the books I've acquired over the years. Behind a row of text, of recent date, gloomy and melancholy I could see an analogy to the sublime writer, philosopher, thinker, educator and poet Miguel de Unamuno Basque. With pleasure we get into the pages of lucid poems, something yellow and brittle and as a result of the relentless passage of time with his scythe mowing everything, all diluted, corrupted and vanishes. Ecstatic in reading the most representative verses of his poetry, Lyrical Sonnets Rosario, El Cristo de Velazquez, Spanish Andanzas and Visions, Rimas de Dentro, Romance of Exile, among many others, we faced with a piece of small size and apparent simplicity intimate: Domestic Incident. To compose the poetic piece, lay hold of Don Miguel free verse, to describe an incident gentleness warm while delivering his thoughtful insights and her young daughter played with paper and pencil sitting at his feet on a typical afternoon. Free verse same as his thought, wings to the wind on ripe wheat pastures on the brave breaking waves, gliding among tufts of grass recently, between the trunks of the trees and the rustic presence of the wild animals.