NOW

by Alex Valente

Original Italian by Elisabetta Destasio (1968 – ), ‘Ora’

Now:
we are the word, the movement
the undertow and the tree’s crown.
Room, street corner,
the night.
Words, whispered.
Crumbling with anxiety.
The cove. The pledge. The promise.
The abstract system.
Laconic syntony.
Incipit. Excipit.
Shadows stretching,
on the drying canal’s
gravel bed.
The mouths. The jug.
We are the spilled wine.
Vermillion Red.
White-hot splinters.
The beats, the flutter.
And the (in) verse canon.
Gust of wind.
We are the absence,
reunited.
And the night, once more.

Featured image © Edo Zollo

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s