Poems by Anna Maria Dall’Olio
CARELESSLY
Carelessly
you struck the chords of my lute:
amid the crowd, my head.
Carelessly
rose thorns you hurled at me
into my soul: sore scratches
Foolishly
April turned into December
buds scorched by frost.
Groping: the attack
On the floor you found my soul
fallen candles crumbled walls
pots of upset sadness.
Your hands of so skilled a man
suddenly, bravely, strongly
from my soul pruned death
first identified in shouts
later uprooted in despair.
Groping: the defense
If life is temporary business
field of light walled with love
strongly I’ll suck your sorrow
shadows won’t suck you stranger.
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