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autumn poem

e così va
nel porto di nuovo York
la notte scorsa la luna piena ha posto un panno del bianco
la mia madre lo ha insegnato che ogni notte
vivo dalla riva del fiume
ho scagliato la mia anima all'aria come un volo del falco
ora mentre i miei labbri stanno vivendo
indietro, giri indietro

 



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