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memorial poem

tristi sono che conoscono non l'amore
chi č il corridore nei cieli
come mi trovo coperto dentro, selezionato dentro
noi che si sono levati in piedi
come le aquile sul high alto
qui cade nessuna luce
sotto il foglio dusky dell'alloro
in qualche luogo ho letto un racconto sconosciuto, vecchio, arrugginito
il sole ha fatto un passo giů dal suo throne dorato
sia in me come gli atteggiamenti eternal
uccelli contro il vento di aprile

 



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