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modern poetry

la notte scorsa la luna piena ha posto un panno del bianco
le tonalitĂ  della notte stavano cadendo velocemente
è aumentato e l'ambra era il tramonto sul fiume
benchè sia piccolo come tutte le cose piccole
che cosa era esso i motori detti
desolato e solo
come le aquile sul high alto
in un vecchio alloggiamento si è illuminato morbidamente
tutti dentro e tutti senza di me

 



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