Tuesday, 6 December 2011

The pavillion

The tea

was hot

in my hands.

I sang out the window,

then closed my eyes.


Italian harps

silver flutes

tuning Irish sonnets

and South America floating,

penetrating my veins.

There, I met you.

1 comment:

Melinda said...

Versi davvero davvero belli, trasmettono dolci emozioni...