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halloween poetry

alcuni giorni più ventosi
ascolti il mare suonante
tempesta
il mio figlio è guasto e sono ciechi andanti
il bambino che ha gettato via il foglio dopo il foglio
per questi bracci bianchi circa il mio collo
benchè sia piccolo come tutte le cose piccole
il lampo ha esposto a flash ed ha alzato
alti pareti ed enorme
amilo in fine, o se non
il più triste dell'anno

 



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