Nightingale bird
Darkness I welcome on distant soil
my routes unfold lonely and a compass
to worlds I strive alone will recall
passages outlined on an oil canvas,
of worlds no one ever visited to tell
if your responses came way from there
my bids have sunk in a cypress well
of passed stereotypes and antique ether.
I remember how we sat on the stairs
of that old house we played when kids
I passed by to recall, and to stare,
to our primal innocence and first kiss.
You loved me back then, in our Cosmos
where all was written by infinity's quill
my eyes glanced at the well, our dromos
was for one walker to whistle tranquil,
a soft song of a time, none ever heard
but the pines sing only, in subsonic gleam
when the wolf howls to a nightingale bird
and the compass turns to the kids' dream..
poem by Giorgio Veneto
Added by Poetry Lover
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