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poem

pour vêtir la pensée ardente
élever, comme vent a soufflé
pourquoi sont les choses qui n'ont aucune mort
je l'ai vu une fois avant
descendu à l'aube des collines windless
je remplis cette tasse
le roulement triste du tambour insonorisé a le battement
dites-moi pas
elle a un espace libre, loveliness vent-abrité
complètement des larmes
tous apaisent le long du potomac
c'est la chanson de la jeunesse

 



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