you might think
that by uprooting
my tenuous tendrils
that were pretending to be deep
deep, deep as roots
after shaking off
loose sand
blowing away
i would have no trouble in letting things go
there is a sort of clay
however
that clings in the fine hairs
not damp or sticky
invisible, the way plastic
infested by static
plies itself
it stays and stays
i shake my finger to have it transfer to the other hand
peel it off to have it drift down
zip to my leg
a small thing
transparent and put away
and never a problem till i notice it
i need a breeze to slide a claw
underneath, to flick it off me
though it’s those same winds
who float me away
scour, fill the let-go things with stick
poems, prose and pathways
Writer | Artist
Fatos e Curiosidades sobre a natureza e tecnologia
Meditations on Art and Life
"per l' allegria il pianeta nostro è poco attrezzato. Bisogna strappare la gioia ai giorni futuri "
a resource for moving poetry
Linking collage work to the meaning of personal and universal symbols.
This is my adventurous story about buying, designing, and renovating homes in ITALY