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family poem

in settembre
quando i mare-venti hanno perforato i nostri solitudes
ho visto le nubi fra le colline
questa ciotola d'argento antica di mine
non brucio incenso
agito i miei capelli nel vento della mattina
li ha fatti mai sentono parlare
ho visto i archangels nel mio mela-albero la notte scorsa
ottanta anni hanno passato e pi
un miglio dietro
ora che mi sono raffreddato a voi
per ero un consigliere gaunt e grave

 



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