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footprint poem

son gris bascule toujours la tour au-dessus de la mer
un mot de vol d'ici et là
dans leurs regimentals loqueteux
musing, entre le coucher du soleil et l'obscurité
pourquoi puis, la nécessité nous voient?
dans pouvez
vous faites ne pas entendre
je fais ma monture, mais personne ne sait
levé des morts
hauts murs et énorme
je vais ma manière complacently
nos moments plaisants volent
ce qui conserve
la neige chuchote au sujet de moi

 



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