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poetry for kid

talvez
entre o fumo e a névoa de uma tarde de dezembro
pôde tê-lo sabido na mola mais adiantada
para a verdade, para o amor
em possa
a noite era preta e drear
eu fui acima e trago as ruas
macio como a cama na terra
melhore do que o granito
como um homem despido mim vai
eu resido na montanha da tabela
os navios estão encontrando-se na baía
eu nunca soube que a terra teve assim muito ouro

 



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