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poem for dad

I, atunci când a fost rupt în Londra
nu aţi auzit de
întuneric fura de toate formele de regine
spuma floare alb, rosu flacără floare
simplitate
lor de păr frumos
există trei modalităţi în care oamenii să ia
de foc pentru a se îmbrăca în gândit
ultima noapte de lună plină stabilite o pânză albă de
în linişte, cu reverance, în veneraţie
de vânt, atunci când lucrează împotriva noastră în întuneric
mama mea sforilor trandafiri-mi ud cu rouă
plecat înainte de-ne

 



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