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thanksgiving poem

receoso não mais, eu digo
em sua barraca guardada
o céu
passagem através das paredes huddled e feias
tiveram e i mas encontrado com
quem estará nomeando o vento
ido antes de nós
quando liberdade de sua altura da montanha
talvez não é nenhuma matéria que você morreu
na esfera

 



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