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autumn poem

no hay presa yo de pensamientos pobres
soplador de vidrio del tiempo
para mirar todo el dia la onda azul encresparse y romperse
porqué entonces, la necesidad nosotros ve?
el rodillo triste del tambor amortiguado tiene golpe
estos corazones fueron tejidos de alegrías y de cuidados humanos
rompemos el cristal que vino sagrado
las sombras ponen a lo largo de broadway
he tenido un miedo en mi vida


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