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modern poetry

poiché ho ritenuto il senso della morte
non eravamo molti
uno per uno, come va da un albero
migliori che il granito
sposti la terra in tempo nuvoloso
ci era un momento durante gli anni precedenti
senza dubbio mi ricordo di ancora
il piĂą triste dell'anno
il rullo triste del tamburo desonorizzato ha battimento
amo rubare per un po'via
sono il vento che esita
quando le ore del giorno sono numerate
quando ho rinviato al tramonto

 



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