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father poem

todos tragam os anos
a música i ouvido com você era mais do que a música
uma pena do aço
o pitiful pequeno, desgastado, caras rir
nos salões do sono você vagueou perto
pela ponte rude
eu agito meu cabelo no vento da manhã
tempestade
desde que eu senti o sentido da morte
simplesmente falando
fora da janela um mar de árvores verdes
a chuva sobre, e o ar brilhante
esta é a canção da juventude
doce e forte

 



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