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fall poetry

eu tenho que dizer good-night
sob a lua da colheita
em sua barraca guardada
para vestir o pensamento impetuoso
a noite era preta e drear
fora de mim unworthy e desconhecido
há uma cidade, builded por nenhuma mão
em seu vĂ´o
eu vi que o deus vocĂŞ a duvida?
material da lua
porque sĂŁo as coisas que nĂŁo tĂŞm nenhuma morte
nos salões do sono você vagueou perto

 



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