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thanksgiving poem

veja, eles retornam
eu vi que você hunched e tiritando nas pedras
com os olhos meek, marrons
eu não posso sempre sentir seu greatness
eu vi com olhos abertos
sad são que sabem não o amor
sombras voadas que varrem perto
quando uma ação for feita para a liberdade
para então without
eu vi os archangels em minha maçã-árvore última noite
ido antes de nós
estourou o vinho feroz
em números mournful
o alvorecer era verde maçã

 



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