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memorial poem

minha mãe ensinou-me que cada noite
esse companheiro estranho veio em baralhar os pés
porque são as coisas que não têm nenhuma morte
fora do profundo e da obscuridade
uma milha atrás
cai aqui nenhuma luz
no alvorecer, disse
quem ama a chuva
o rolo sad do cilindro muffled tem a batida
e assim vai
a escuridão rola para cima
meu filho está inoperante e eu sou cortina indo

 



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