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sad death poem

dal pavimento al soffitto
gli archi del ponticello rosso
un'ombra grigia sottile sul bordo di pensiero
qui cade nessuna luce
ottanta anni hanno passato e piů
perchč sono le cose che non hanno morte
rose ed oro
limps con la fermata del passo doloroso
la donna molto ha mancato, come denominate a me, chiamata a me
le tonalitŕ della notte stavano cadendo velocemente

 



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