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autumn poetry

la mujer faltó mucho, cómo usted llama a mí, llamada a mí
suave como la cama en la tierra
deje una subsistencia de la alegría usted
ruédeme abajo por el prado
suavemente llorando
ella era una belleza en los días
cuál deseo comentar
hay un país por completo del vino
simplicidad
a lo largo de una orilla
viejo vino a beber
como miento cubierto adentro, defendido adentro
tome mis pulseras

 



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