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grandma poem

havia nunca um som ao lado da madeira mas de uma
nĂŁo seja falso
todo meu amor para meu doce
as canções velhas
com os olhos meek, marrons
qual eu desejo observar
para entĂŁo without
para prestar atenção o dia inteiro à onda azul ondular e quebrar
eu agito meu cabelo no vento da manhĂŁ
caras bonitas, tragical
pĂ´de tĂŞ-lo sabido na mola mais adiantada
o prado estava rastejando
mil anos silenciosos há

 



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