Spring
The Serchio River Valley is the wall-less central corridor of a giant roofless ruinThe mountain spurs are the perpendicular walls.Vigilant, the village outposts perch on the edges of the rubble. The valleys are the roomsCantilevered on the mountainsides there is a labyrinth of gently winding roadsFrom which I watch spring climbing very slowly to the top. First, the cherries blaze, clusters of bright white lights scattered on dark grey hillsides |
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