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poetry poem

sceso all'alba dalle colline windless
stella-polvere e luce vaporous
persino avrebbe suo scherzo
di ci non era mai un suono al lato il legno ma uno
ha incurvato l'inondazione
la mia madre lo ha insegnato che ogni notte
forse è materia che avete morto
i loro capelli bei
un'ombra grigia sottile sul bordo di pensiero
ascolti il mare suonante
potremmo ma sapere
le ombre delle navi
ci è un'ora di riposo pacifico

 



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