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thanksgiving poem

questi sono
era l'autunno dell'anno
parla non bene
tristemente parlando
come lui di chi spirito nella fiammata del mezzogiorno
veda che mi dò voi
noi che si sono levati in piedi
lasci il unsaid bello di parole
chi chiamerà il vento
tutti dentro e tutti senza di me
ciò è la nave della perla
behold me, in miei chiffon, garza e canutiglia
conosco che cosa state andando dire
fra il fumo e nebbia di un pomeriggio di dicembre

 



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