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haiku poem

a noite é escura, e os ventos do inverno
como um homem despido mim vai
deus
é ido
sobre os rooftops compita as sombras das nuvens
é frequentemente não assim?
behold mim, em meus chiffon, gauze e ouropel
como selvagem, como bruxa-como estranho que a vida deve ser
são você vivo?
eu ando abaixo os trajetos do jardim
veja, eles retornam
qual eu desejo observar
com os olhos meek, marrons
baixo! ' tis um a noite do gala

 



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