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short friendship poem

em setembro
ido antes de nós
porque são as coisas que não têm nenhuma morte
eu vi os archangels em minha maçã-árvore última noite
com alegria e maravilha
um céu que nunca soubesse o sol, a lua ou as estrelas
quando os mar-ventos perfuraram nossos solitudes
glass-blower do tempo
e pão do breaketh mais
o ar está cheio do alvorecer e da mola
cante-o outra vez à canção cantado
eu ofereci-os todo o farewell

 



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