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fall poetry

le pré rampait
l'amour a été chanté mille manières
pour pouvoir voir chaque côté de chaque question
mon fils est mort et je suis aveugle allant
avec les yeux doux et bruns
quand j'ai regardé dans vos yeux
j'ai entendu le vent toute la journée
le mouvement de votre corps est comme la musique
allés sont les trois, ces soeurs rares

 



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