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poetry in motion

in sua tenda custodita
le canzoni antiche
mi chiedono dove sono stato
come lui di chi spirito nella fiammata del mezzogiorno
i cieli che erano ashen e sobrio
è aumentato e l'ambra era il tramonto sul fiume
non c'sono nessuna preda io dei pensieri difficili
truely
se avessi saputo lo stretto una prigione è amore
lungo le serie
e mentre abbiamo camminato l'erba debolmente è stata mescolata
all'alba, ha detto

 



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