So it's raining . Again.
And I, still under it,
me wet, I
your arms like branches, and your feet sink
,
watering and my thoughts, as
sowing,
that grows free in a land of utopias,
quand 'here
nourishes the soul and nourishes the heart, and rain, rain, filtering through the cracks
and farming roots, and
is collected, and it is thought that the hungry grasp
:
so is life!
and so to love, great is the
chest but the little heart,
like the river to the sea,
that many are accepted,
and lives, even through rain,
and pulses between the sore ribs that
detain him and unworthy
vol burst and wants to scream.
Love!
Poems by Salvatore Carvelli
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