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thanksgiving poetry

corsa alto-sopportata
dal profondo e l'oscurità
non prego per pace
fra il fumo e nebbia di un pomeriggio di dicembre
un cielo che non ha conosciuto mai il sole, la luna o le stelle
stuff della luna
lasci il unsaid bello di parole
per guardare tutto il giorno l'onda blu arricciarsi e rompersi
le canzoni antiche
ci erano tre nel prato dal ruscello
la donna molto ha mancato, come denominate a me, chiamata a me

 



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