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My quill's trails
Cumulus dance so nicely, an isotropy of moves
and dimensions, a nimble flirt of Aeolic whiffs
and my minds explorations. My solitude rules.
A crucifix hung from your neck, a golden chain
your dreamy form attends my calls, your bliss
was it an autesthesy of souls esteem, position vain?
Your glance demure, my crimson run, a wince
a blow of winds, took me up high, afar from pain
Dryads accepted me in mist, a travel of whims.
A visitor of evenness, a sanctuary of your ails
your wings invited me, to fly in higher air streams
Your flash of soul lives since, in my quill's trails.
poem
by
Giorgio Veneto
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