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mother daughter poem

la pioggia finito e l'aria brillante
deve andare indietro, ha detto
il dolce con il fern ed è aumentato
bello
fra le montagne ho vagato
come le aquile sul high alto
ho entrato nel deserto perché la mia anima è athirst
era una bellezza nei giorni
era non per quell'odore singolare
al lato di un campo raso
cane dal percalle ed il gatto del calicò
contro la fiamma verde dell'cratego-albero

 



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