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prose poetry

ayer por la noche la Luna Llena puso un paño del blanco
tenemos ninguna vergüenza?
su cara es justa y lisa y fina
gaily a través de los campos bailamos
aunque soy poco como todas las pequeñas cosas
el olor del se levantó tan falso, las espinas tan verdades
el dulce con el fern y se levantó
puesto que he sentido el sentido de la muerte
para la verdad, para el amor
es usted despierto?
se van los tres, esas hermanas raras

 



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