November sadness....

 My boy Rufus:


Andare a cercare un amore morto
 in una sera di Novembre,
 respirare l’umida tristezza di un bosco nudo, 
che sembra un cimitero senza tombe.
sentire un fruscio delle foglie morte sotto i piedi
 quando si cammina piano sempre piu piano
 annegando nella nebbia fredda.
Gli uccelli sono partiti 
e il silenzio  diventa un grido acuto...
e gia il tempo di tornare al mondo
portando  sulle labbra umide 
un amaro gusto della vita...
(MC)












































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