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mother daughter poem

me preguntan donde he estado
su pelo hermoso
disparando para arriba, cayendo abajo
levantado de los muertos
ponemos
todos tragan los años
hace usted no oír
debajo de un árbol de la castaña que se separa
la pienso espléndido justo
fuera del profundo y de la obscuridad
un destello del oro en gloom y gris
puesto que, si usted hizo una pausa mi lado hoy
calma como que segundo verano
hay tres maneras de las cuales los hombres toman

 



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