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african american poetry

les poèts le disent
j'ai entendu le vent toute la journée
la agonie d'avoir trop de puissance
basculé dans le berceau du profond
son gris bascule toujours la tour au-dessus de la mer
un dieu
vous pensez, mon garçon, quand je mets mes bras autour de vous
mon amour vrai de son oreiller a monté
une petite pêche dans le verger s'est développée
quand, plein de l'amour chaud et désireux

 



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