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thanksgiving poem

dai nostri posti nascosti
in qualche luogo ho letto un racconto sconosciuto, vecchio, arrugginito
cara moglie
gaily attraverso i campi abbiamo ballato
era molte e molto un anno fa
il merriment infinito e insensato delle stelle
conosco non dove
persino avrebbe suo scherzo
amo la mia ora di vento e di luce
riassunto su una notte di volo
un poet, prendente il freno fuori della sua linguetta

 



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