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poetry for kid

a noite era preta e drear
com o por do sol
eu era um goddess ere o mármore me encontrou
se ele
um por um, como sae de uma árvore
os drowses pálidos do dia no ocidental embebem
minha mãe twines me as rosas molhadas com orvalho
algum queixou-se ao mestre
você pensa, meu menino, quando eu enrolo meus braços em você
os corredores de mármore resounding longos
disse
até sua janela da câmara
seu cabelo bonito

 



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