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poem for pastors

nós colocamos
o mais saddest do ano
na obscuridade e na paz de minha cama final
as canções antigas
nos salões do sono você vagueou perto
são você vivo?
se eu morrer, pense somente disto de mim
quando a noite drifts ao longo das ruas da cidade
a noite é escura, e os ventos do inverno
eu espero-o
em setembro
eu vi as nuvens entre os montes
eliminar, esforçando-se vainly

 



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