Annamaria Perrotta
The trip
At night, in the company of my thoughts,
gather a bit ' wind and memories
I hold in my hand and emotion,
becomes palpable, sovereign
of my Christian concern.
Remeggio with the wings of the mind,
in silence, slowly ...
Way between paths lost
phrases ever said,
hands never close,
bruente wind.
Meanwhile, the dawn is lazy,
shrouded in fog.
The most constant presences
are missing.
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