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poem for pastors

todos se callan a lo largo del potomac
al amante apasionado
solitario y solitario
nosotros que estaban parados
con los ojos mansos, marrones
la luna de levantamiento ha ocultado las estrellas
espléndido y terrible su amor
usted piensa, mi muchacho, cuando pongo mis brazos alrededor de usted
cuando el viento trabaja contra nosotros en la obscuridad
gloom
hay aumentos para todas nuestras pérdidas
mientras que estaba parado escuchar, discreto mudo

 



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