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christian poetry

arrojé mi alma al aire como un vuelo del halcón
éstos sean
mi hijo es muerto y soy persiana que va
sobre los tejados compita con las sombras de nubes
repentinamente, fuera de maneras oscuras y frondosas
viejo vino a beber
estoy parado en el tiempo gris frío
ella era una belleza en los días
vea que me doy usted
quién ama la lluvia
el existir del cisne
en septiembre
él vino tomarme por la mano

 



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