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poem for dad

ella oyó a niños el jugar en el sol
porqué lo haga
sombras coas alas que barren cerca
para mirar todo el dia la onda azul encresparse y romperse
entre el humo y la niebla de una tarde de diciembre
suave como la cama en la tierra
las naves están mintiendo en la bahía
porqué son las cosas que no tienen ninguna muerte
babylon -- donde voy a soñar

 



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