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cowboy poetry

ce qui nous fera maintenant
tandis que je tenais l'écoute, discrètement sourde-muette
au-dessus du fleuve ils montrent à moi
comment sauvage, comment sorcière-comme étrange qui la vie devrait être
je suis vieux et aveugle
nous qui se sont tenus
le pré rampait
je suis le vent qui hésite
quand les heures du jour sont numérotées
bonheur

 



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