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teen poetry

con gioia e wonder
andato prima di noi
glass-blower di tempo
il mio figlio è guasto e sono ciechi andanti
perchè sono le cose che non hanno morte
non c'sono nessuna preda io dei pensieri difficili
ho visto le nubi fra le colline
amico, di cui il sorriso è venuto essere
bello
dice a di buoni vecchi periodi
dal profondo e l'oscurità
questa ciotola d'argento antica di mine
l'aria è come una farfalla

 



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