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christmas poetry

mas alas, sonhos justos
era não para esse cheiro singular
nossos momentos agradáveis voam
eu quero saber onde você vive
as sombras colocam ao longo de broadway
eu agito meu cabelo no vento da manhã
não há nenhum rebanho, porém prestado atenção e tendido
estrela-poeira e luz vaporosa
não gire sua cabeça
era uma oysterman novo alto
a noite era preta e drear
levantado dos mortos
eu vi os archangels em minha maçã-árvore última noite

 



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