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thanksgiving poem

los arcos del puente rojo
ella dijo
estoy en amor con los altos lugares far-seeing
con su pelo flaying violentamente
si el asesino rojo piensa él mata
todos tragan los años
claro de luna profundo y blando
mundo que cambia bajo mi mano
para arropar el pensamiento ardiente
en su tienda guardada
hijas del tiempo
sol y viento y golpe del mar
sacudaro mi pelo en el viento de la mañana

 



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