Luca Menin


Autumn Sunset


Pour the eyes, crystal soul
Venus radiant, tears of wax
The skin listens exquisite, the roots.
Drying out on the green valley
Draw by the river monsoon
Carry by flutes in the air
Citing, misleading
Planting pressed cracks.
In the pots, boiling soft
Pink sunset at the back door
A young olive tree whisper
The autumn night, warm like calm rain

Submitted: Saturday, September 29, 2012
Edited: Saturday, September 29, 2012

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