la mia testa è il mio rifugio
Stride picchettando l’arco sulla corda
ché il mondo è ormai lontano.
La sua voce nasce dalle ceneri del silenzio,
cresce,
s’alza.
Canta volteggiando l’arco sulla corda
ché il mondo è ormai lontano.
La sua voce nasce dalle ceneri del mondo,
cresce,
s’alza,
cala,
muore come il giorno
e poi nuovo silenzio intorno.
Pubblicato in Ebbro e Poeticherie
| Cookie | Durata | Descrizione |
|---|---|---|
| cookielawinfo-checkbox-analytics | 11 months | This cookie is set by GDPR Cookie Consent plugin. The cookie is used to store the user consent for the cookies in the category "Analytics". |
| cookielawinfo-checkbox-functional | 11 months | The cookie is set by GDPR cookie consent to record the user consent for the cookies in the category "Functional". |
| cookielawinfo-checkbox-necessary | 11 months | This cookie is set by GDPR Cookie Consent plugin. The cookies is used to store the user consent for the cookies in the category "Necessary". |
| cookielawinfo-checkbox-others | 11 months | This cookie is set by GDPR Cookie Consent plugin. The cookie is used to store the user consent for the cookies in the category "Other. |
| cookielawinfo-checkbox-performance | 11 months | This cookie is set by GDPR Cookie Consent plugin. The cookie is used to store the user consent for the cookies in the category "Performance". |
| viewed_cookie_policy | 11 months | The cookie is set by the GDPR Cookie Consent plugin and is used to store whether or not user has consented to the use of cookies. It does not store any personal data. |
