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Trails
Falling soft rain, a meter of late,
for you my solitude waited in vain,
soldier of emptiness, and of fate,
beat of timing, my song's refrain.
Ghosts, visitors of previous lives,
our past images upon the trails,
as shadows show in byway drives,
their companionship never fails.
The shadows elongate on slopes,
and sun to west horizons deigns,
on our elliptic orbits an' scopes,
and on this vast scenery reigns.
Shadows surpass, close to fade,
comely is this rejoice of mauve,
upon the slope's night serenade,
scenery flows to a darkish suave.
poem
by
Giorgio Veneto
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