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poem for dad

lung a lumina soarelui de vara shone
flung i sufletul meu la aer, ca un soim care arborează
nu este o ţară plină de vin
a fost o ciudăţenie de pe buzele
lumina lunii adânc şi ofertă
în timp ce stăteam de ascultare, de prost discret
de somn, gri frate de moarte
încetişor plâns
L-am văzut o dată, înainte de
chestii din luna
de foc pentru a se îmbrăca în gândit
i atunci când mă întorc la pământ
de sub războinic al cârma
formată din farmec singur

 



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