... but to surprise summer in the middle of the city, then the silence of the pond soiled by the ducks, the ripe fruit, the abundance, another day on earth, it will rain tomorrow
pond beauty at the botanical garden, Nelson, 2022, Sylvie GE
almost as if
I was sleeping;
regular breathing: tick
body motionless: tick
it's my mind, the problem:
skipping from one story to another, from the past to the future, from maybes, to nevers
until dawn
Words that scratch the paper get inked in time, render experience more dense, deepen the feelings, don't they, in other words, they are worth something, even when they are worth nothing.
Marahau, Abel Tasman park, pukeko summer 2021-2022, Sylvie GE
I don't make resolutions at the beginning of the year, I don't even feel the need to celebrate the new year, or the end of the "old" one. It's a bit the same with my birthday, time passes, one day at a time. *inspired by Edouard Leve, Autoportrait
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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