butterfly way
Glued side by side
On the paper frame
Distrustful of what will be said
If the wind picks up
At the edge of the horizon.      
 
Get away from the ground
Red ribbon around the neck
Without mystery
Every four mornings
Of what is beautiful and good
In our garden.      
 
Children and grandchildren
regroup gather together
With patience
In the warehouse of visions
to do their business
all around the house.      
 
Assaulted
By the brilliance of the place
The reflection of the mirror monopolizes
The middle
Of a phosphorescent shuttle
Of the butterfly the lover.      
 
to walk
On the dry leaves of the undergrowth
Makes fear less likely
Remains of the castle
The wooden ring
Glued on the face.      
 
It is parts
and departures
To the cake of life
That the breath makes appear
In the middle pallor
Which we don't know how to get rid of.      
 
Dry scales
Of an off-season meditation
At the elementary tip
Get off side by side
With a mother's emotion
Cultivated on a morning of scarcity.      
 
We found him !   
He was in the window
And we couldn't access it
Only the poetry book in your pocket
Of illegible notes
Made readable by the rain.      
 
On the hill
He was fluttering
Scratching the air like a rascal
In a very beautiful way
Smelling good with big wing beats
Spring in a shiver.      
 
( Detail of a work by Jean-Claude Guerrero )
 
1237