Llareggub Dream Poem by Lidia Chiarelli

You can hear the dew falling, and the hushed town breathing
(Under Milk Wood _Dylan Thomas)

On this short spring day
amidst clouds of gray vapour
the light is now lost.
It is night too soon
a dark, starless night.
And you, Dylan, lead us
through the silently black streets
where we hear the sleepers' quiet breath.
Fading presences sway
in the labyrinth of their dreams
and draw a fluid stillness.
Slowly the time goes by.
And when the shadows surrender to the new dawn
a voice slowly rises:
Reverend Eli Jenkins
sings words of love for his town,
so innocent, charming and timeless.

Lidia Chiarelli, Italy