In March
still the fog
crowding
surrounding us quietly
without shadow
of truce
you can only hear
the tweet of birds
unseen
in this night,
dark
like thinking
that forcibly
blurs the real
being and not
but which March
my thoughts saw
and what other March
will see ?
be finally April
as condemnation or salvation
of this crazy crazy month.
ESTÁ A LER
Little Red Book (Libercolo Rosso)
PoesiaIf there were a premise to do for this Little Red Book it would be that everything written here had not been thought to be delivered, as it is happening now, written black and red on white, just right now and from now on.
