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contemporary poetry

puisque j'ai senti le sens de la mort
quelque part j'ai lu un conte étrange, vieux, rouillé
l'amour a été chanté mille manières
parmi la fumée et le brouillard d'un après-midi de décembre
un, comme part d'un arbre
chère épouse
un regard est mais un rayon
j'ai hérité le désert parce que mon âme est assoiffée
je ne puis pas vous dire maintenant
dans les halls du sommeil vous avez erré près
ombres à ailes balayant près

 



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