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grandma poem

vindo para baixo no alvorecer dos montes windless
era não para esse cheiro singular
quando a noite drifts ao longo das ruas da cidade
eu estive
agite
eu sou velho e cego
nunca em toda minha vida
fala não bem
mundo que muda sob minha mão
quando as horas do dia forem numeradas
o sol está acima

 



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