Trafika Europe 14 - Italian Piazza

Extra Passwords

XLV. in a stone house afield where my elders lived I do, a blue tit’s nest, a rat’s; never have I left at all, lingering back at the threshold of dark, buttoning, unbuttoning, tying up, untying my wraps and coats nor did I uncover my face once under cirrus skies, nor did I collect rain

in short lines of winds, dimples and wrinkles, for the freedom it gives to watch boughs and strings sag tightened up to garden poles my house’s peopled though: servants in silence, tenants of holes,

insects sometimes piling up at corners round bits of crumb;

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