photo : arriving in Ottawa
almost like a soul looking for your own traces on the freshly snow, this second rises like total freedom, there is nothing but time and it passes in front of you.
Archives par mot-clé : snow
#3061 poetry
photo : Outaouais river
when the snow became light
only remained
traces of frail flowers
hieroglyphs of the seasons
defying the storm and the winds
haiku
Going somewhere
but not always knowing where
the road is ending from time to time*
we would speak between the lines, little words from time to time, and sounds that would mark our steps, then our ears full of silence and coming down the hill, we would remember the good old days.
*first published in June 2020, edited in June 2021
no noise (but)
I was fleeing without making any noise, nothing cracking, no one could see me. I hadn’t thought of the traces I would leave behind.