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pumpkin poem

una tormenta está montando en la marea
y mi nombre es veraz
de largo hace, en el claro de luna joven
la tierra guarda cierto ir de la vibración
asustado no más, digo
cuál era él los motores dichos
dentro de mi mano sostengo
suave como la cama en la tierra
ésta es la canción de la juventud
todo mi amor para mi dulce
suavemente llorando
soy fevered
un pensamiento dulce solemne
ruédeme abajo por el prado

 



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