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grandma poem

musing, entre o por do sol e a obscuridade
os arcos da ponte vermelha
o justo e stately empregada doméstica, cujos olhos
nas manhĂŁs nuvem-cinzentas
a criança que jogou afastado a folha após a folha
como uma vela branca
melhore do que o granito
mas alas, sonhos justos
eu vi as nuvens entre os montes
a algum os deuses gordos
em seus braços estava o prazer imóvel
porque

 



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