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sister poem

avec le coucher du soleil
l'obscurité vole les formes de toutes les reines
ce qui je vous doivent
un dieu
bonheur
pour moi étais un conseiller décharné et grave
les montagnes ils sont les gens silencieux
bruits qui tâchent de déchirer
quelques jours plus venteux
bien que je sois peu en tant que toutes les petites choses
il était un jeune oysterman grand
bougies se renversant en longueur dans des bidons de tomate

 



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