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son poem

o prado estava rastejando
a luz retirada
quando eu for para trás ligar à terra
última noite a lua cheia colocou um pano do branco
quando as horas do dia forem numeradas
passagem através das paredes huddled e feias
o relâmpago piscou, e levantou
eu resido na montanha da tabela
e nse
caído assim
mil anos silenciosos há

 



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