MEDIUM: Acrylic on canvas
The dragonflies came at a night when the dictator had died, the people had their dinner. When Nonna’s bedside tales were keeping the children by the bay. When the Pomodoro was sweet, the men were sweeter and the Vesuvius in the far had stopped roaring and had gone for a good night’s sleep. The war is over, rejoice, my friends, the children aren’t signing Mephistopheles’ pact anymore.