12 Degrees & Skiving

what began as year-long challenge has become perpetual until further notice

a cool place on which to tread

she left on the ground
only a shadow
a cool place on which to step
a waiting place in the shade
a note of passing
identity hanging on threads
the rewards, they tell her, are savoury
and the tales she tells all have happy endings
though there are one or two that go further
and it’s this beyond
the tales behind the tales
that are the bones for the meat
the story of ordinary hearts thumping in time
to the beat of magnanimous places
where sphinxes stand jury
and dragonflies admit to crimes of passion
between nature and myth
those stories in the dark of the long shadow
she left on the ground
would otherwise be
only a cool place on which to step


lei lasciava sul terreno
solo un’ombra
un luogo fresco su cui percorrere
un luogo di attesa in ombra
una nota di passaggio
l’identità appesa ai fili
però i premi, le dicono, sono saporiti
e le storie che lei si racconta
ognuno ha un lieto fine
anche se ci sono alcune che vanno oltre
e sono queste al di là,
i racconti dietro i racconti,
che sono le ossa per le carne:
le storie dei cuori ordinari che battono
al ritmo dei luoghi magnanimi
dove i sfingi stanno giuria
e le libellule ammettono di crimini di passione
tra natura e mito
quei racconti nel buio della ombra lunga
che lei lasciava sul terreno
potrebbe essere invece
solo un luogo fresco su cui al punto



Tell me wotcha reckon

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This entry was posted on January 17, 2016 by in Italiano, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , .

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