The air plays at distances:
near the horizon,
it takes flight at the trees
and it raises stained glass between the eyes and the landscape.
The air plays the sounds:
it breaks the skylights of the sky,
and fills with silver water echoes
the snail of the ears.
The air plays colors:
it stains with leaf green the brook
and it returns, sudden, blue,
or it passes the tassel of a cloud.
The air plays with memories:
it takes all the noises
and leaves mirrors of silence
to look at the years lived.