I leave things

JB, 2020, There

 

I leave each thing behind. I relax
my weak arms on the grass, where the moss
is still fresh by last rain
which already swells rivers downstream

Water flows like my years,
dragging memories and things
that are no longer anything, mists
so that mix hope with life

Still new holiday, old mountains too:
they are motionless, wide
and compete with the sky for more space.
I’m a shadow in the forest dark

 

Genova Valley,

August, 2nd 2020

 

Italian version