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pumpkin poem

mon amour vrai de son oreiller a monté
le vieil ouest, le vieux temps
par de la large le sein faisant mal terre
voici ne tomber aucune lumière
mais alas, rêves justes
je l'aime
dans toutes les choses non parlées de
l'air est comme un papillon
avec la joie et la merveille
le soleil et vent et battement de mer
nuit mystérieuse
j'ai vu les archangels dans mon pomme-arbre la nuit passée
un avec vous
les chansons antiques


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