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daughter poem

le jour est fait
avec les yeux doux et bruns
oranges de plumaison nubian bleu-noires
la agonie d'avoir trop de puissance
l'odeur du s'est levée si faux, les épines si vraies
quand j'étais a enfoncé à Londres
o juste et stately bonne, dont les yeux
il est vrai que vous disiez que les dieux sont plus d'utilisation à vous que des fées
le pré rampait
une pensée gentiment solennelle

 



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