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christmas poems

la mia anima va placcata nelle cose gorgeous
non rimanga nient'altro
quegli occhi neri i una volta così elogiato
ha sentito i bambini giocare al sole
tempesta
il mio figlio è guasto e sono ciechi andanti
sole e vento e battimento del mare
ultima mezzanotte
ma alas, sogni giusti
l'alba era verde mela
è ci qualcuno là
risiedo alla montagna della tabella
della l'oscuritĂ  e pace nel mia base finale
una penna di acciaio

 



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