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autumn poetry

comment sauvage, comment sorcière-comme étrange qui la vie devrait être
regarder là-bas
j'ai vu qu'un dieu vous doutent de lui?
vous pensez, mon garçon, quand je mets mes bras autour de vous
parmi la fumée et le brouillard d'un après-midi de décembre
vous êtes mon compagnon
c'est l'arsenal
les drowses pâles de jour sur l'occidental trempent
la étoile-poussière et lumière vaporeuse
gros mâles noirs dans une salle de vin-baril

 



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