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poem for pastors

ho visto i archangels nel mio mela-albero la notte scorsa
del sole né stelle
corsa alto-sopportata
tutti si acquietano lungo il potomac
per ero un consigliere gaunt e grave
per venire così presto a questo ha immaginato l'oscurità
amavo una donna
nel gather di nerezza e chiedono
aranci di coglitura nubian blu-neri

 



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