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lost love poem

minha mãe twines me as rosas molhadas com orvalho
moonlight profundo e macio
quando eu era um menino na faculdade
filhas do tempo
tropeçando acima, caindo para baixo
acima dos prados ricos com milho
embora repine do amor, e chafe da razão
sadly falando
eu sobre-tinha preparado o evento
são idos os três, aquelas irmãs raras
f4-lo vêem sempre um jacaré
balançado no berço do profundo
ido antes de nós
apenas como meus dedos nestas chaves

 



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