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sorry poem

la neve bisbiglia circa me
figlie di tempo
ancora il suo gray oscilla la torretta sopra il mare
bello
ho visto che hunched e rabbrividendo sulle pietre
quando il vento funziona contro di noi nell'oscuritŕ
glass-blower di tempo
se muoio, pensi soltanto questo me
benchč repine di amore e strofinio di motivo
in pieno delle rotture
forse
quando ho rinviato al tramonto
era un oysterman giovane alto
serene di pomeriggio e luminoso verdi

 



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