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autumn poetry

elle a entendu les enfants jouer au soleil
ce qui je vous doivent
ils peuvent parler de l'amour dans une petite maison
vieux vin à boire
à certains les gros dieux
la lumière retirée
la pluie plus de, et l'air brillant
mon âme est un champ labouré foncé
comment j'aidez vers la droite le monde qui tourne mal
beaux, tragical visages
donc je ne puis pas
il y a trois ans d'aujourd'hui

 



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