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grandma poem

mi alma va revestida en cosas magnĂ­ficas
déjeme moverse lentamente a través de la calle
el dulce con el fern y se levantĂł
algunos días más ventosos
de piso al techo
he echado el mundo
contra la llama verde del espino-a'rbol
quizás no es ninguna materia que usted murió
debajo de un árbol de la castaña que se separa
hago mi cubierta, pero nadie sabe
escuche el mar del sonido

 



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