Valdres, Osaka, Wherever. Poem by Aldo Rino Smiloveux Bell

No peace in heart,
no peace in grave,
from down under the hill,
a pulse, a beat.
Certainly, he was gone.
Long dead he was.
But his pain lived on.

Longing for S. M.
Each day, each night.
Longing for S. M.
Each hour, each second.
Forever is for ever,
I hear them chanting.

Spring rain.
They kissed in spring rain.
Their lips warm.
Their tongues wet.
eyes closed.
No tears, just rain.
Not very cold,
either.