37

L’ala s’inchina e compare la città

obliqua, di fronte,

accesa delle luci dell’uomo.

Un volo basso

cosi basso

da poter percepire l’odore del sale

se ci si credesse abbastanza.

Il mare è vicino

vicino

riflette immobile la luce di una luna rotonda e pacata

Poi le onde bianche

imagepoi la terra grave.

Io credo ai miracoli.

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This entry was published on February 6, 2015 at 5:15 am and is filed under Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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