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poem for dad

en alguna parte leí un cuento extrańo, viejo, oxidado
mi madre me enseńó que cada noche
ruidos que se esfuerzan rasgarse
y va tan
cuando las horas del día se numeran
el solo puńo apretado levantado y alista
sé no dónde
vi los archangels en mi manzana-a'rbol ayer por la noche
aunque soy poco como todas las pequeńas cosas
sea paciente, vida, cuando el amor está en la puerta
se van los tres, esas hermanas raras
tristes son que saben no amor
la noche es oscura, y los vientos del invierno
por el puente grosero

 



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