Almost a Song

„Per me si va nella città dolente…” Dante Alighieri You haven’t forgotten you won’t forget… In ices is swelling the river again and trawling roots and weeds, and foam. It leaves the shores bent, mirrors, swamps and frost. But on the day it kindles a glow. With movements spiral of the hands, I’m folding the air after the beasts – to that one threshold (what does it say no, I don’t know. And the death ones leave.