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poetry in motion

limps con la fermata del passo doloroso
la mia madre twines me rose bagnate con rugiada
li ha fatti mai sentono parlare
sono il vento che esita
la notte è scura ed i venti di inverno
dato che, se faceste una pausa oggi il mio lato
musing, fra il tramonto e l'oscurità
e come potreste sogno della riunione
in possa
li ho sentiti nella notte
potremmo ma sapere
non prego per pace
di ci non era mai un suono al lato il legno ma uno

 



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