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pastor appreciation poem

la notte è scura ed i venti di inverno
ho vinto la corsa
era un oysterman giovane alto
desolato e solo
uplifting, come il vento ha saltato
appena come mie barrette su queste chiavi
perchè facciali sempre basamento là che rabbrividisce
behold me, in miei chiffon, garza e canutiglia
ottanta anni hanno passato e più
musing, fra il tramonto e l'oscurità
parla non bene
amico, di cui il sorriso è venuto essere

 



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