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christmas poem

embora eu sou pouco como todas as coisas pequenas
como ele de quem espírito na chama do meio-dia
quando uma ação for feita para a liberdade
dentro desta sepultura humilde um conqueror encontra-se
olhar além
a escuridão
e assim vai
glass-blower do tempo
é ido
qual se mantem
minha mãe twines me as rosas molhadas com orvalho
havia um strangeness em seus bordos
porque então, a obrigação nós vê?
fala não bem

 



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