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thanksgiving poetry

un'ombra grigia sottile sul bordo di pensiero
vecchio vino da bere
le vecchie canzoni
le montagne sono gente silenziosa
lungamente fa, nel moonlight giovane
li ho detestati
quando ho esaminato i vostri occhi
sono andati i tre, quelle sorelle rare
quell'anno
mescolisi
ci situiamo
la signora, il vostro cuore si č girata verso polvere
come lui di chi spirito nella fiammata del mezzogiorno
l'aria č come una farfalla

 



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