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teacher poem

bruits qui tâchent de déchirer
pourrions nous mais savoir
quatre-vingts ans ont passé, et plus
ombres étendues le long de broadway
je me tiens par temps gris froid
regarder là-bas
nous cassons le verre dont le vin sacré
effrayé pas plus, je dis
au-dessus d'elles toutes, regardant vers le bas
les cieux qu'ils étaient ashen et sobre
nous avons aucune honte?
la lune se levante a caché les étoiles

 



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