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autumn poem

regarder là-bas
bas! 'tis par nuit de gala
quelque part j'ai lu un conte étrange, vieux, rouillé
dossier une nuit de vol
souvent je pense à la belle ville
quand les mer-vents ont percé nos solitudes
dans des nombres mournful
nous qui se sont tenus
mélancolie, bleu il était
calme en tant que que deuxième été
contre la flamme verte de l'aubépine-arbre
êtes vous éveillé?
un, comme part d'un arbre

 



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