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grandmother poem

et pain de breaketh pas plus
peut-ĂŞtre
un orage monte sur la marée
j'aime ma vie, mais pas trop bien
ĂŞtes vous vivant?
splendor doux
éliminer, luttant vainly
je la pense splendide juste
une ombre grise mince sur le bord de la pensée
les nuances de la nuit tombaient rapidement
quand le voile des yeux est soulevé
j'au-dessus-avais préparé l'événement

 



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