Poem

recherche

THE BLUE STREAK of the king-fisher pierces through my brain where it lays corals of silver.

Then, a marvelous sparkling hurtles towards the sun as it and unknown, a gust of salty wind comes along wrecking everything with a roar.

The cliffs open up, letting out swallows of honey which, as they crackle, burst one after another on the icy surface of the green wave...

I wake up with a start, the cat's clawing at the window, I go open up for it...

I fall asleep again....!