Symphonic_ mind
In spite of your will
I gave you the titles
because every title you would have written
or I would have chosen,
it represents you as a key
who opens the front door
to enter
to the fireflies in the meadow
on a July night
like your triumphant Gramsci
and only you know it wasn’t spite
only esteem for every step taken
with Ulysses’ sails unfurled
or the philosophies of Pythagoras
now don’t ask me what I mean,
I can’t explain
I admire the sunsets beyond the horizon
where nothing ever ends
and it is a continuum of sunrises and sunsets
musician of the Mediterranean
you, the first violin
do you forgive me?
