I picked up a shadow
when I was going up the stairs.
It was just going down.
While I was touching the tiles
I lost an idea. It rolled down
wrapped in cloths.Then the wind moved the strings:
and the idea slid
overwhelmed with emptiness.
A cart was just passing by.
– Flatus Fluit Ad Fortunae
I have just
watered my flowers.
I am walking on the terrace while the band
plays, I ask “Can you hear it?”
It chases me across the space
to the borders of my laughter
so that neighbors won’t hear
this joy of my years
scattered in the wind.
So, music plays in the house across the street
then behind the square, in front
of the second floor of our white walls.
The sound box has a house as its source
in the square where people pass by,
sit down, repeat the melody that
I have been hearing for twenty years.
Every summer when my grandmother
woke me up in the morning at nine
and repeated “Valentina, the band!”.