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birthday poem

forse è materia che avete morto
amo non troppo bene la mia vita, ma
ho conosciuto il silenzio delle stelle e del mare
non rimanga nient'altro
e con l'uccello di ronzio
quando ero si è rotto a Londra
i cieli che erano ashen e sobrio
nel vostro volo
o giusta e stately domestica, di cui occhi
quando ero un ragazzo all'università
la nerezza
era l'autunno dell'anno
lungo le serie
sole e vento e battimento del mare

 



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