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short poem

algunos días más ventosos
entre el humo y la niebla de una tarde de diciembre
un destello del oro en gloom y gris
la nieve susurra sobre mí
el mirar más allá
el aire es lleno de amanecer y de resorte
el existir del cisne
flor blanca de la espuma, flor roja de la llama
el relámpago destellaba, y levantó

 



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