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short poem

no recolhimento da escuridão e pedem
eu sou uma mulher
têm você não ouvido
eu sou o vento que wavers
deixe-nos piedade aqueles de que seja melhor fora do que nós são
sono, irmão cinzento da morte
quem ama a chuva
os poetas dizem
seu cabelo bonito
o rolo sad do cilindro muffled tem a batida
no porto de york novo
mil anos silenciosos há
o merriment infinito, foolish das estrelas

 



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