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grandma poem

che cosa noi ora farà
la nerezza ruba le forme di tutte le regine
ho fatto una volta soltanto un voto, uno
ho detto
mi levo in piedi nel tempo grigio freddo
un poet, prendente il freno fuori della sua linguetta
ora
il giorno è fatto
dai prati ricchi con cereale
era non per quell'odore singolare
i loro capelli bei
ci è uno che quella i amava una volta così tanto

 



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