Bello Casentino Poem by Shirley Harrison
Bello Casentino
The ghost of Dante, mounted horse
mist in air, early morn
trees they whisper, taunting clouds
hovering over forest crowds
dawn's light creeping, piercing through
onto last nights dusk time view
leaves crackling under feet
colours of autumn brown, orange, dark green
the smell of pungent soaking frond
pools of rain drops
frogs in pond.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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8/29/2026 8:02:17 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
