Quebec city, Quebec, January 2020, near Cartier street, canon, Sylvie GE
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
My hands, from the cold air hide in my pockets. Dark horizon but following the path, skimming the ground with my shoes in the gravel. Is it sky or earth?
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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