then suddenly a great fatigue
falling on the head
like the evening light
waiting for the lighthouse
to pierce it with a great flash of light lumiere (2)
Archives par mot-clé : port
dreaming machine
Every Sunday at seven o'clock, turns the crank of the dream machine: what happened, or what will be happening, what could be, and there we go, exaggerating the colors and the smells, the intensity, the emotions, before we come back on earth (not that we ever left, it was all in the mind) haiku
like the ropes
that wear out without breaking
let time takes its course haiku
comme les cordages
qui s’usent sans se rompre laisser
le temps faire les choses
Friday night on earth
Friday night on earth
let's go for a drink
admire the sea
humming old tunes
that fill the air