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autumn poetry

je suis dans l'amour avec les endroits prévoyants élevés
se reposer dans son culbuteur attendant votre thé
la étoile-poussière et lumière vaporeuse
comment sauvage, comment sorcière-comme étrange qui la vie devrait être
puisque j'ai senti le sens de la mort
je suis las d'être amer et las d'être sage
le plus triste de l'année
élever, comme vent a soufflé
vous entendez la pluie?

 



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