4-22-2019
Syrup
In a terrain
That drips in honey
Of spring
Flowers Light And creams And wine And song From lips Dancing with words In lingua franca
Naive their meaning
Only the tickling
The kinesthetic sensations
They bring to mind
The knowing
That I do understand
On some level
Deep deep inside
Sigh to leave
This place
Of silence
Quiet
Birds sing
Green green grass of spring
Tiny tastes
And calm and peace
France
This is my experience
Unique to others
This road
This side of ancient buildings
This field
This kindness
This calm
This living life Simple Amongst the vignes The uvas The lips parted slightly To smile Or drink Of life Right now.