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good bye poem

algún se quejó al amo
en un viejo compartimiento se encendió suavemente
no éramos muchos
envuelva la tierra en tiempo nublado
cuando las horas del día se numeran
tormenta
aunque repine del amor, y rozadura de la razón
se van los tres, esas hermanas raras
estoy parado en el tiempo gris frío
el sentarse en su eje de balancín que espera su té
flores de bebés

 



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