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poem for dad

eu vi-o uma vez antes
fora da janela um mar de árvores verdes
eu fiz um voto uma vez, um somente
eu estou cantando-lhe
eu sou cansado de ser amargo e cansado de ser sábio
entre o fumo e a névoa de uma tarde de dezembro
uma sombra cinzenta fina na borda do pensamento
eu não queimo nenhum incense
não há nenhum rebanho, porém prestado atenção e tendido

 



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