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mother daughter poem

a criança que jogou afastado a folha após a folha
jogaram uma pedra, você jogaram uma pedra
amigo, cujo o sorriso veio ser
em setembro
esta bacia de prata antiga de meus
é frequentemente não assim?
como ele de quem espírito na chama do meio-dia
lá pela janela na casa velha
deixe-me ser sad
filhas do tempo
era uma beleza nos dias
havia nunca um som ao lado da madeira mas de uma
pouco parque que eu passo completamente

 



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