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thanksgiving poem

embora repine do amor, e chafe da razão
quem é o corredor nos céus
pouca porta foi alcançada no último
nós que estiveram
tropeçando acima, caindo para baixo
pensamentos através de minha cabeça
duas fileiras dos repolhos
a escuridão rouba os formulários de todas as rainhas
eu nunca soube que a terra teve assim muito ouro
nunca em toda minha vida
os navios estão encontrando-se na baía
diz de épocas velhas boas

 



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