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haiku poem

il était un jeune oysterman grand
par de la large le sein faisant mal terre
de la chanson et du rêve pour jamais allé
glooms des vivre-chênes
j'ai fait un voeu par le passé, un seulement
si le tueur rouge pensent il massacre
à partir du sud à la coupure du jour
nous n'étions pas beaucoup

 



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