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poem for dad

nous qui se sont tenus
une fois ce gazon mou
tressé et tissé
tous en dedans et tous sans moi
filles de temps
il y a bien longtemps, dans le jeune clair de lune
ętes vous vivant?
qui aime la pluie
juste en tant que mes doigts sur ces clefs
oranges de plumaison nubian bleu-noires
prčs d'un champ en détresse
leurs beaux cheveux
doucement pleurant
la lune se levante a caché les étoiles

 



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