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haiku poem

pourquoi
le long des banques
je réside à la montagne de table
voyez, de cette contrefaçon de lui
la pluie plus de, et l'air brillant
dans la terre silencieuse
se déclenchant vers le haut, tombant vers le bas
il y a des gains pour toutes nos pertes
un orage monte sur la marée
sommeil, frère gris de la mort
l'air est comme un papillon
donnez-moi
dans la sphère
vous êtes mon compagnon

 



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