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poem for dad

ouviu as crianças jogar no sol
porque
sombras voadas que varrem perto
para prestar atenção o dia inteiro à onda azul ondular e quebrar
entre o fumo e a névoa de uma tarde de dezembro
macio como a cama na terra
os navios estão encontrando-se na baía
porque são as coisas que não têm nenhuma morte
babylon -- onde eu vou sonhar

 



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