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mom poem

elle doit retourner, elle a dit
nous n'étions pas beaucoup
quand vous venez ce soir
dans l'obscurité et la paix de mon lit final
je suis le vent qui hésite
vous faites entendre
quand je vais de nouveau à la terre
cette année
soudainement, hors des manières foncées et feuillues

 



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