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grandmother poem

le preghiere bianche piccole
piantiamo
ho avuto un timore nella mia vita
impaurito nient'altro, dico
vecchio vino da bere
poco cancello č stato raggiunto in fine
candele che si rovesciano obliquamente in latte del pomodoro
sono stancare di essere amaro e stancare di essere saggio
sotto il timone del guerriero
come esso
i drowses pallidi di giorno sull'occidentale bagnano
volontŕ glimmer sul mare?
risiedo alla montagna della tabella

 



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