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footprint poem

la notte è scura ed i venti di inverno
tutti si acquietano lungo il potomac
devo dire buona notte
debole-è traversata la canzone
e con l'uccello di ronzio
le ombre delle navi
sposti la terra in tempo nuvoloso
un poet, prendente il freno fuori della sua linguetta
la mia anima va placcata nelle cose gorgeous
addolorisi non per l'invisibile
lungamente fa la luce solare di estate lucidare
bucks neri grassi in una stanza del vino-barilotto
lascilo essere triste

 



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