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cowboy poetry

entre el humo y la niebla de una tarde de diciembre
nosotros que estaban parados
su cara es justa y lisa y fina
haga a muchachos y las muchachas todavía van
en su tienda guardada
el pasar a través de las paredes amontonadas y feas
tengo gusto de ella
el prado se arrastraba
he venido en el desierto porque mi alma es athirst
oí el viento todo el dia
camino abajo de las trayectorias del jardín

 



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