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family poetry

flor blanca de la espuma, flor roja de la llama
repentinamente, fuera de maneras oscuras y frondosas
ella sabe un lanzamiento barato
por las mañanas nube-grises
dos filas de coles
por completo de rasgones
estoy muriendo
cómo es salvaje, cómo bruja-como extraño que la vida debe ser
quizás no es ninguna materia que usted murió
en el amanecer, él dijo
ochenta años han pasado, y más
dígame menos o dígame más
vi los archangels en mi manzana-a'rbol ayer por la noche

 



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