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of roman parchment

of roman parchment
 a Marco, poeta e traduttore

i saw
a wind of olives
clung to the
heard the
leaves a rain
of finest silver
come through
the dark greenness
along the branches
splaying out
like broken roads
that traced the
i saw you,
mother, in the
time of lords
and ladies the
pheasants grooming
down the air
with their
you wrote me
a letter with the
quill of one
a simple letter
of tears and
and wished
me well.

june 2013

5 thoughts to “of roman parchment”

  1. Ciao, Marco. Have been much too busy with worldly affairs of late to write much new or read the many new postings here, or to pick up your Dante where I left off. You’re welcome, and I’m glad this ‘gesture’ still has some meaning for you.

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