To fry, my dog-FRIENDSHIP POEMS
“Fog” you do not understand: they sing your ears,
innocent snuff, silly, your eyes,
the long glares that leave the mountain,
jumping, tender disheveled wisp of lightning.
Look at those bleary dogs, orphans, reserved,
that suddenly emerge from the mists broken,
drag in their timid steps disoriented
all the recent terror of his house in ruins.
Despite those fleeting cars, no procession,
carrying death on a bare drawer;
that child who observes the same as a celebration
battle in the air, which could murder him;
despite the best companion I lost
my family but sad not understand
what I wish there was more understood,
and despite defecting friend and sells us;
“Fog , ” my comrade,
even if you do not know, we still,
in the midst of this heroic bombed grief,
faith, which is joy, joy, joy.