Antonella Anedda

1955 / Rome

XIII

These too are war poems
composed while it rages, not far off, not nearby
seated askew at a table lit by lamps
whilst the doors are hung with palmfronds
this too is a song lifted towards God
who drops his gaze down on his worms and overwhelms us
loved and unloved alike.
Not a truce - a gift for this thunderstruck earth
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