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thanksgiving poetry

ciò è la nave della perla
che cosa noi ora farà
quell'anno
non posso ora dirvi
il vecchio ovest, il vecchio tempo
dalla finestra un mare degli alberi verdi
cammino giù i percorsi del giardino
chi chiamerà il vento
quelli sul superiore dicono che li conoscono, terra -- sono liars
dialo
le navi stanno trovandosi nella baia
perchè sono le cose che non hanno morte
ha una radura, loveliness vento-riparato

 



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