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thanksgiving poem

para estes braços brancos sobre minha garganta
pela costa, pelo mar
eu estive
você pensa, meu menino, quando eu enrolo meus braços em você
havia três no prado pelo ribeiro
levantou-se e o âmbar era o por do sol no rio
na terra silenciosa
encontra-se aqui uma senhora a mais bonita
alguns dias mais ventosos
balançado no berço do profundo
homem frio stern
muito bem, você liberais
eu faço minha saia, mas ninguém sabe

 



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