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sad poem

o que era ele os motores ditos
eu vi os archangels em minha maçã-árvore última noite
esse ano
tudo dentro e tudo sem mim
eu tive um medo em minha vida
a neve sussurra sobre mim
e nse
quando você vier hoje à noite
todos quiet ao longo do potomac
em setembro
de encontro à flama verde da hawthorn-árvore
eu vi a primeira pera
a noite é escura, e os ventos do inverno
do assoalho ao teto

 



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