venerdì 30 aprile 2010


The train moves slivers of our soul,
and lands a silver dream
far in the golden sunset of yore.
Broken bridges over our heads,
empty railways swifty fading
from dream and heart
and life - at times rejoycing but often not -
that and the rest, above,
and sky amidst the clouds.
And you, tenderly cherished and loved,
you and I, beneath the sunny scape, or by the sea,
breathe through sandy beaches
and swim in cool water,
malleable and fragile,
not hard like rocky mountains,
nor fluid like water, but rather,
ethereal and unseen like the sky at night.

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