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autumn poem

amo la mia ora di vento e di luce
morbidamente piangendo
lĂ  dalla finestra nella vecchia casa
alla mezzanotte
metà di piaceri e palazzi benchè possiamo vagare
ci è un paese in pieno di vino
calma come che seconda estate
le ombre delle navi
lasci il unsaid bello di parole
in qualche luogo ho letto un racconto sconosciuto, vecchio, arrugginito
quell'anno
sono il vento che esita
deve andare indietro, ha detto

 



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