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mom poem

sobre os rooftops compita as sombras das nuvens
esta bacia de prata antiga de meus
escute o mar soando
eu vi-o uma vez antes
o sol pisou para baixo de seu throne dourado
e enquanto nós andamos a grama foi agitada fraca
pouca porta foi alcançada no último
eu v todas as sagacidades humanas
eu estou no tempo cinzento frio
o céu
e ainda andaram sobre

 



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