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grandmother poem

apenas como meus dedos nestas chaves
quem ama a chuva
quando eu era quebrou em Londres
eu vi os archangels em minha maçã-árvore última noite
eu sou o vento que wavers
era o outono do ano
nĂŁo pendure nenhuma grinalda
eu verei uma estrela hoje Ă  noite
sob uma árvore espalhando da castanha
vocĂŞ recorda
e com o pássaro humming
se eu for muito certo

 



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