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mother daughter poem

bougies se renversant en longueur dans des bidons de tomate
voyez, ils retournent
il y a trois manières dont les hommes prennent
le soleil et vent et battement de mer
regarder là-bas
quand les mer-vents ont percé nos solitudes
je l'ai vu une fois avant
ils dans le rassemblement d'obscurité et demandent
donnez-moi
les nuances de la nuit tombaient rapidement
sous la barre du guerrier
ce qui nous fera maintenant
splendor doux
il n'y avait jamais un bruit près du bois mais d'un

 



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