Moments,fragment of dreams,scattered under the leaves,
glide-on warm trails
deeply encrusted on the grass...signs of passage,
like the moonlight-silver lace...hanging from tree branches.
Pilgrims conquerors,concealed-in pitchers dreams,snails started in search of fortune.
Some of them will remember the place from were they started,
others,like minstrels will ascend and descend,clinging to the branches vine grape...
lifting antennas,like telescopes,
to any breeze that creeping on the path.
Hidden under the leaves,
like under the dome-of a church-snails are waiting for moments
who bring on the wings of dreams
lime and jasmine fragrance.
Raindrops...
remaining on the leaves,were hanging from my heart.
Raindrops... with shy light wires,like a diadem
were caught the berries cherry trees.
