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narrative poetry

si perdu
parmi les montagnes j'ai erré
allés sont les trois, ces soeurs rares
elle a dit
j'ai vu les archangels dans mon pomme-arbre la nuit passée
un mille derrière
tranquillement, avec le reverance, dans la crainte
et pendant que nous marchions l'herbe a été faiblement remuée
les vérités terribles ceux-ci soient
laissez-moi se déplacer lentement par la rue
l'amour a été chanté mille manières

 



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