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mother poem

cuando el viento trabaja contra nosotros en la obscuridad
suave como la cama en la tierra
podríamos sino saber
suavemente llorando
un destello del oro en gloom y gris
simplicidad
las sombras de las naves
con los ojos mansos, marrones
naranjas de desplume nubian azul-negras
pensamientos a través de mi cabeza
hace tres ańos hoy

 



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