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christian poetry

deixe-me mover-se lentamente através da rua
tem por muito tempo a luz solar do verão brilhada
um céu que nunca soubesse o sol, a lua ou as estrelas
uma palavra do vôo de aqui e lá
eu disse
são idos os três, aquelas irmãs raras
eu não queimo nenhum incense
desde que eu senti o sentido da morte
de encontro à flama verde da hawthorn-árvore
quando os mar-ventos perfuraram nossos solitudes
não gire sua cabeça
duas fileiras dos repolhos
todos tragam os anos

 



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