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poem

sob a folha dusky do laurel
na obscuridade e na paz de minha cama final
o alvorecer era verde maçã
trançado e tecido
eu vi que o deus você a duvida?
são idos os três, aquelas irmãs raras
a mulher faltou-me muito, como você se chama me, chamada
não há nenhum escape pelo rio
eu sou velho e cego
as sombras colocam ao longo de broadway
caído assim
baixo! ' tis um a noite do gala

 



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