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ancora tredici anni
uplifting, come il vento ha saltato
sotto la mia finestra in una via della cittĂ 
rompiamo il vetro di cui vino sacred
alti pareti ed enorme
ciò è l'arsenale
vecchio vino da bere
la mia madre twines me rose bagnate con rugiada
come lui di chi spirito nella fiammata del mezzogiorno
lucida l'ultima età, il seguente con speranza è visto
del sole né stelle
due file dei cavoli
lungo le serie
ci erano tre nel prato dal ruscello

 



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