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short friendship poem

ce qui était lui les moteurs dits
dernier minuit
un orage monte sur la marée
le merriment sans fin et idiot des étoiles
deux rangées des choux
vous pensez, mon garçon, quand je mets mes bras autour de vous
au-dessus du fleuve ils montrent à moi
pour vêtir la pensée ardente
un, comme part d'un arbre
exister de cygne
quand je vais de nouveau à la terre
le jour est fait
il y a une heure du repos paisible

 



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