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cowboy poetry

mondo che cambia sotto la mia mano
tutti si acquietano lungo il potomac
fiore bianco della gomma piuma, fiore rosso della fiamma
ancora il suo gray oscilla la torretta sopra il mare
in settembre
la luce ritirata
penso spesso alla cittŕ bella
sedendosi nel suo attuatore che aspetta il vostro tč
poco cancello č stato raggiunto in fine
i loro capelli bei
l'alba era verde mela
sonno, fratello grigio della morte

 



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