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autumn poetry

eu espero-o
eu amo roubar por algum tempo afastado
pela ponte rude
as máscaras da noite estavam caindo rapidamente
eu v todas as sagacidades humanas
disse
um gleam do ouro no gloom e no cinza
na obscuridade e na paz de minha cama final
se o slayer vermelho pensar slays
uma vez este turf macio
glooms dos viv-carvalhos
fala não bem
porque então, a obrigação nós vê?
o oeste velho, o tempo velho

 



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