FIUMICELLO of Frederic or Zucchi
Case against fields,
summers flush with the birds,
worship the sun and wind,
souls not asking for charity
shadow, but
inhabited moons in the heavens without
mosquito nets.
streams and the skin of my grandmother's moth-eaten
Queen of his years,
green eyes alert,
great respite.
Fiumicello is
wait a fish in Mundine,
the bait in the hands of sleep, dreaming dust grain
ferns and shortcuts to reach the sea.
In a dream in July
pike
laugh from the mud and I have shorter hair
herb and vegetable garden that
knows by heart the beauty of my mother.
streams and win a goldfish at the party
peaches,
and listen to his heartbeat
slowly, losing weight
and pray in vain, that
hearts are drawn in pencil.
Fiumicello
watermelon is split
the goal Caniggia
Nene is my aunt, who does not ask
anyone
the causes of the flowers.
Fiumicello are
stories stones,
known by few,
amnesia of alligators,
alliances
hands clasped
for us.
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