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brother poem

monde qui change sous ma main
avec ses cheveux flaying d'une manière extravagante
elle a entendu les enfants jouer au soleil
je suis vieux et aveugle
ma mère me tortille des roses humides avec la rosée
regarder là-bas
vécu à côté de la rive
complètement des larmes
êtes vous vivant?
laissez une subsistance de joie vous
il n'y avait jamais un bruit près du bois mais d'un
robuste, humble-abeille de somnoler

 



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