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poem for dad

oscuro-eyed
sobre ellas todas, mirando abajo
mi madre me trenza las rosas mojadas con rocĂ­o
ésos en el superior dicen que le conocen, tierra -- son mentirosos
oscilado en la horquilla del profundo
splendor dulce
vi las nubes entre las colinas
una vida en la onda del océano
soplador de vidrio del tiempo
ciudad que no es una ciudad
ahora que me he refrescado a usted

 



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