Night .

Night  dots between yesterday and today,
quiet  calm wind  moon cold and callous that is there.
Moon  I have not turned their eyes more,
not a word  and yet I know  you’re still there  to illuminate  the path of those who  is lost at night in the night  and still wanders between Centocelle and the world.

Night  your jacket in black  you dress up all the houses  and on roads where it is now quiet.

This suburb  assumes magical scents  between a deli and tranvetto  that  still waiting for forty minutes,  along with the new day will start again …

Marco Vasselli © 2014