wishes

 under this gray suburban sky
  never stop looking for a good track
  like a dog in the middle of a lawn nose on the ground

  and try to imagine how to get up and down new stairs
  even if steep even if slippery

  like a slow boat in the canal going forward
  allowing the same water to flow from both sides

  and imagine breathing new air
  walking slipping through passers-by like a river in flood

  perceiving in the haze
  the aroma of coffee that comes and flies away

wishes?

  little things, savors scents steps

  and great anxiety always at every single breath

  after all, this is the fortune of life

Marco Bo