photo : Pohara
If I were a tree
I’d be alone and cling to the rock
I would follow the wind
in a zany dance
I would delight in infinite soliloquies
then at nightfall
my leaves would rustle
inn the crash of the tide
Archives par mot-clé : black
haiku
healing the entrails
from the injuries of life
not an easy task
as if
As if the earth was trying to distract itself
of what's going on inside,
as if the earth got tired of
what we do not talk about
as if there were too many memories
and she was going to sleep, instead this strange place*
finding this place, that strange place, it was a corner or a room, a withdrawal from the world, a desire to sleep, to silence, to stretch the eyes, to listen to the stars.