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funeral poem

scattando in su, cadendo
le tonalità della notte stavano cadendo velocemente
prima del san bronze solenne
non brucio incenso
sole e vento e battimento del mare
dal sud alla rottura del giorno
come io aiuti alla destra il mondo che sta andando male
ho sentito tutto il giorno il vento
in vostri bracci era il piacere tranquillo
sto morendo
era un oysterman giovane alto
siete chiari

 



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