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short friendship poem

o que era ele os motores ditos
última meia-noite
uma tempestade está montando na maré
o merriment infinito, foolish das estrelas
duas fileiras dos repolhos
você pensa, meu menino, quando eu enrolo meus braços em você
sobre o rio beckon a mim
para vestir o pensamento impetuoso
um por um, como sae de uma árvore
existir da cisne
quando eu for para trás ligar à terra
o dia é feito
há uma hora do descanso calmo

 



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