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thanksgiving poem

hace tres años hoy
no ruego para la paz
caras hermosas, tragical
el dulce con el fern y se levantó
cómo como las estrellas es este el blanco, las caras sin nombre
nuestros momentos agradables vuelan
se van los tres, esas hermanas raras
cuando un hecho se hace para la libertad
la oscuridad
sueño dulce en sus sepulcros humildes
perro de la guinga y el gato del calicó
pasado implacable del thou
estoy viejo y oculto

 



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