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narrative poetry

alguns dias mais ventosos
a mulher faltou-me muito, como você se chama me, chamada
deixe o unsaid encantador das palavras
sumário em uma noite do vôo
poderíamos nós mas para saber
eu não pray para a paz
eu sou cansado de ser amargo e cansado de ser sábio
ouviu as crianças jogar no sol
rode-me para baixo pelo prado
algum queixou-se ao mestre
se eu for muito certo
vinho velho a beber

 



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