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grandma poem

em algum lugar eu li um tale estranho, velho, oxidado
pela ponte rude
dê-me
tem um espaço livre, loveliness vento-protegido
sobre o rio, no monte
são você vivo?
você é bonito e desvanecido
não há nenhum escape pelo rio
agora que eu lhe esfriei
de encontro à flama verde da hawthorn-árvore
deve ir para trás, disse
glass-blower do tempo

 



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