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retirement poem

je descends les chemins de jardin
observer toute la journée la vague bleue se courber et se casser
simplement parlant
au-dessus du fleuve ils montrent à moi
j'ai eu un rêve et je me suis réveillé avec lui
les vérités terribles ceux-ci soient
est souvent il pas aussi?
j'ai jeté mon âme à l'air comme un vol de faucon
pourquoi sont les choses qui n'ont aucune mort

 



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