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acrostic poem

ce qui conserve
et pendant que nous marchions l'herbe a été faiblement remuée
exister de cygne
nous qui se sont tenus
vous vous rappelez
l'air est plein de l'aube et du ressort
les étoiles sont tombées du ciel
elle boite avec stopper le pas douloureux
pour vêtir la pensée ardente
y a il quiconque lĂ 
vous entendez la pluie?
ce compagnon étrange est venu sur brouiller des pieds
j'aime ma vie, mais pas trop bien

 



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