Selma Barcellos

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                                           no muro caiado

                                                           marcas do giz

                                                           no verso inacabado

                                                           o jasmim reflorido

                                                           (como na tarde em

                                                           que me chegaste)

                                                           as luas da varanda

                                                           as canções no vento

                                                           de primaveras tantas:

                                                           murmúrios inconclusos

 

                                                           Questão de fuso?

 

                                                                                                      Itacoatiara, outra vez setembro