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def poetry jam

sonno, fratello grigio della morte
ottanta anni hanno passato e piů
ho fatto una pausa la stoffa per tendine aperta
sentite la pioggia?
ho sentito tutto il giorno il vento
ho scagliato la mia anima all'aria come un volo del falco
conosco che cosa state andando dire
alcuni giorni piů ventosi
nei loro regimentals ragged
se avessi saputo lo stretto una prigione č amore
ci č un paese in pieno di vino
rose ed oro
il mio dispiacere, quando č qui con me

 



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