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child poetry

eu sou velho e cego
de nossos lugares escondidos
doubtless eu recordo ainda
com vermelho do sangue dos bordos e coração da pedra
alguns dias mais ventosos
meu filho está inoperante e eu sou cortina indo
porque
deixe o unsaid encantador das palavras
ainda seu cinza balança a torre acima do mar
eu resido na montanha da tabela
o cheiro do levantou-se assim falso, os espinhos assim verdadeiros
três anos há hoje
f4-lo ouvem-se sempre de
quando eu estive escutar, discreetly dumb

 



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