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child poem

hace usted no oír
era muchas y mucho hace un año
el sentarse en su eje de balancín que espera su té
entre el humo y la niebla de una tarde de diciembre
era un oysterman joven alto
materia de la luna
y mi nombre es veraz
le hizo ven siempre un cocodrilo
encima del sur en la rotura del día
resido en la montaña de la tabla
había tres en el prado al lado del arroyo
puesto que he sentido el sentido de la muerte

 



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