Poems Of Roberto Amato (16)
. . . And yet
I believed I was me
I don't want anyone to accompany me beyond the bridge
I'd like to tell your husband
So very little time
The city is designed very well.
The infinite is like this
The pigeons listen to us converse.
The pigeons on this obscure meadow are completely black
The water is as green as an infusion
There are goats up there
This past night I found myself drowning in quicksand
We happened to enter unfamiliar places
Yesterday I visited the house of Leopardi.
You may say that between me and you