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christmas poetry

doucement pleurant
la foudre a clignoté, et s'est soulevée
le pré rampait
s'il
ils me demandent oů j'ai été
il était un jeune oysterman grand
ce qui je vous doivent
tristes sont ils qui savent pas l'amour
du plancher au plafond
pensées par ma tęte
ŕ partir des prés riches avec du maďs
laissez-moi se déplacer lentement par la rue
j'ai vu les nuages parmi les collines

 



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