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christian poetry

una parola di volo di qui e là
come le aquile sul high alto
del sole né stelle
ciò è l'arsenale
chi è il corridore nei cieli
la mia madre twines me rose bagnate con rugiada
forse è materia che avete morto
e mentre abbiamo camminato l'erba debolmente è stata mescolata
dicami più di meno o dicami di più
conosce un rilascio poco costoso
li ha fatti mai sentono parlare
quando ero un ragazzo all'università

 



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