Where were we?
It was memories hour
and nostalgic laughs
we were telling again and
again true stories
and some others that we were made up
*first put online in Augst 2021, edited in 20222
Of course, there would be traces
of passers
lost on the dunes,
one we cannot always be with on their own
but they would have come, and would
have gone and now I would be alone
with the sky and promises
of thunderstorms
in the cold sand of May.
then we would evaporate, of course, in the whitish mists sinking
above the shore...
Un blog experimental voue a la poesie du quotidien sous toutes ses formes/An experimental blog devoted to poetry in all its forms
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