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short funny poem

al lato di un campo raso
la mia madre twines me rose bagnate con rugiada
le canzoni antiche
tristemente parlando
ho visto con gli occhi aperti
di ci non era mai un suono al lato il legno ma uno
le ombre pongono lungo broadway
chi ama la pioggia
aranci di coglitura nubian blu-neri
sopra loro tutte, osservando giù
nel porto di nuovo York
era molte e molto un anno fa

 



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