quarta-feira, 1 de janeiro de 2014


Por Eddi Kebby (Stratford-upon-Avon, Inglaterra)

On the road as I drove by
a pigeon lay - with wings awry.
So near my house! Don't let it be
the little friend each day I see.

The breakfast visits for his feed.
The duck like waddle to his seed.
His eyes so bright. His feathers sleek.
A perfect bird from tail to beak.

Can I no longer have my wish
to see him splashing in his dish?
Why can't a driver take more care?
My pigeon is no longer there.

Sadly, I scan the empty skies
when, hoping for a sweet surprise
I hear the whistle of his wings.
How can he know the joy he brings?

(Do livro "Paint your Wagon", 1999)

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