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death poetry

eu quero saber às vezes se for realmente verdadeiro
balançado no berço do profundo
um pêssego pequeno no pomar cresceu
as máscaras da noite estavam caindo rapidamente
eu estou morrendo
calma como que segundo verão
na obscuridade e na paz de minha cama final
esteja em mim como os modos eternal
eu vi que o deus você a duvida?
eu vi os archangels em minha maçã-árvore última noite

 



Poetry news via Google, MSN, and Yahoo!

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  • School Notes - Philadelphia Inquirer
  • Listen to the prize-giving at the recent Griffin gala, as well as an ... - CBC News
  • The old cemetery - Pilot
  • Bodies of Water - Chicago Tribune
  • Poetry in motion - Edmonton Sun
  • Germany films life of critic Reich-Ranicki - Monsters and Critics
  • Whidbey Island Writers Association announces winners - PNW Local News
  • Hay ho (Guardian Unlimited)
  • May events - Seattle Times
 

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