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anniversary poem

ao longo dos bancos
o céu
mulher boa
o ar está cheio do alvorecer e da mola
esta é a canção da juventude
para trás, gire para trás
um olhar é mas um raio
sob uma árvore espalhando da castanha
aqueles no superior dizem que o conhecem, terra -- são liars
ao longo de um river-side
em algum lugar eu li um tale estranho, velho, oxidado
de encontro à flama verde da hawthorn-árvore
entre o fumo e a névoa de uma tarde de dezembro

 



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