WINTER WITHOUT YOU

WINTER WITHOUT YOU
The fire in the fireplace tells the story of our lives
while it draws ghosts on the wall, who used to be alive.
The shadows cast by the moonlight, serenade light,
pierce my lonely heart. Alone again, seems to be all right.
From the balcony sill my body hangs defenseless
to the world outside, covered in sky, lined with sea, senseless.
As for the wine on the table, served for two, ourselves,
one glass remains unharmed, while the other devours itself.
The environment is impregnated with you. And the details
in the decoration, without your hand to control them, as a betray,
get confused and disarranged, no command on the details.
In a final desperation the notes of my guitar defy winter
and come out randomly, passing over mountains, scene printer,
to land softly on the beach below in search of you in the winter.
They want to bring you back, strolling through memories to face the winter.
A vain effort. Our winter will be sad and silent. Really small.
Your presence will remain only in my fantasy, like ghosts on the wall.