then we would evaporate, of course, in the whitish mists sinking
above the shore...
nuages (2)
Archives par mot-clé : blue
cloud (1)
I'll wrap my wounds in the wadding of the sky, tell me, when will you come back? the horizon of vertigo, the balance of time, I will anchor myself in the sand of the beach. possibles
that hour of the morning
when the possibilities are parading
in the waves of awakening
and the coffee wrinkles
sometimes superhuman
at some other times, fragile
they fade in the sun
but hang around in town haiku
in the evening pond
the reflections of the day
arise delicately Where were we?
Nelson, 2021, Sylvie GE
Where were we?
It was time for memories
and nostalgic laughs
we we were starting again and
again true stories
and others that we were making up