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broken heart poem

ho visto i archangels nel mio mela-albero la notte scorsa
nel vostro volo
poiché ho ritenuto il senso della morte
il bambino che ha gettato via il foglio dopo il foglio
quando un atto è fatto per la libertà
perchè
la neve bisbiglia circa me
ma alas, sogni giusti
quando, pieno di amore caldo e desideroso
la pioggia finito e l'aria brillante
sono vecchio e cieco
esprimiamo le nostre passioni più basse

 



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