après-midi à saint-malo
September 9, 2019dusty memories,
newspaper clippings,
old photographs,
blurred figures in grey -
crooked smiles,
torn pages like uprooted trees,
stories from somebody’s life (whose?) -
bare threads of meaning;
dreams are spiderwebs
for catching juicy regrets…
i remember
the soft cheek of a sadness
yet untouched by the frost:
tender, fragrant rose petals
poems not yet written
innocence not yet lost…