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autumn poetry

todavía su gris oscila la torre sobre el mar
cuando el velo de los ojos se levanta
mi madre me trenza las rosas mojadas con rocío
vi que el dios usted la duda?
había un strangeness en sus labios
el movimiento de su cuerpo es como música
no se aflija que encima
déjeme moverse lentamente a través de la calle
ruidos que se esfuerzan rasgarse
todos se callan a lo largo del potomac
en el amanecer, él dijo
mi alma es un campo arado oscuro

 



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