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family poem

en septembre
quand les mer-vents ont percé nos solitudes
j'ai vu les nuages parmi les collines
cette cuvette argentée antique du mien
je ne brûle aucun encens
je secoue mes cheveux dans le vent du matin
vous a fait entendent parler jamais
j'ai vu les archangels dans mon pomme-arbre la nuit passée
quatre-vingts ans ont passé, et plus
un mille derrière
maintenant que je me suis refroidi à vous
pour moi étais un conseiller décharné et grave

 



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