Friday, February 25, 2011

My 7 Year Oldhas Sore Muscles

thirsty!

lì dove il cielo
si siede
e l’acqua mai s’arresta
and runs free
between smooth stones and gems
and leaves scattered all around,
a bare hand
poets
wash rhymes, words, thoughts
extol the fabric
animating a new
songs.
And thank goodness
protector and confessor
from cleaning
la poesia rinasce
tra sassi e gemme
e foglie
tutt’attorno sparse 
che ignari piedi
calpesteranno.
Elisena


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