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fall poetry

ils me demandent où j'ai été
bonheur
si j'étais très sûr
fleurs des bébés
jamais dans toute ma vie
je vois tous les esprits humains
au-dessus d'elles toutes, regardant vers le bas
les ombres des bateaux
je suis vieux et aveugle
parmi la fumée et le brouillard d'un après-midi de décembre
étaient elle pas pour cette odeur singulière
il est allé
tous en dedans et tous sans moi

 



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