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friend poem

ma alas, sogni giusti
e mentre abbiamo camminato l'erba debolmente è stata mescolata
all'interno della mia mano tengo
la neve bisbiglia circa me
abbiamo nessuno shame?
semplicità
sopra loro tutte, osservando giù
non ho saputo mai che la terra ha avuta così tanto oro
quale desidero rilevare
perchè sono le cose che non hanno morte
questa ciotola d'argento antica di mine
le preghiere bianche piccole

 



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