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thanksgiving poem

y va tan
allí por la ventana en la vieja casa
las sombras de las naves
ella cojea con parar paso doloroso
era no para ese olor singular
haga a muchachos y las muchachas todavía van
poca puerta fue alcanzada en el último
mi dolor, cuando ella está aquí con mí
por lo tanto no puedo
quién es el corredor en los cielos
se van los tres, esas hermanas raras

 



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