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grandma poem

nel porto di nuovo York
questa ciotola d'argento antica di mine
ho sentito tutto il giorno il vento
osservare di lĂ 
la nerezza rotola verso l'alto
è spesso non così?
in pieno delle rotture
quale desidero rilevare
una storia molto notevole questo è
e mentre abbiamo camminato l'erba debolmente è stata mescolata
il sole è in su
veda, da questa falsificazione di lui
non si addolori che finito
lungo le serie

 



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