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pastor appreciation poem

de'bil-se va volando la canción
velas que derriban de lado en latas del tomate
los drowses pálidos del día en el occidental empapan
apenas como mis dedos en estas llaves
no puedo sentir siempre su greatness
le estoy cantando
por el puente grosero
el mirar más allá
debajo de la hoja oscura del laurel
en pasillos del sueño usted vagó cerca

 



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