On sait à peu près pourquoi une œuvre est mauvaise. Mais bien moins pourquoi elle est bonne. - LeRoy C. Breunig

The lock in the heart that shatters
A thread of silk
A thread of lead
A thread of blood
After these waves of silence

POST

Not a head stands out
A finger rises
Then it is the voice that one knows
A signal

a brief note

A man leaves
Up above a cloud that passes by
No one goes in
And the night keeps its secret

"ADIEU

The glimmer farther away than the head
The heart-skip
On the slope where the air rolls its voice
The spokes of the wheel
the sun in the rut
At the crossroads
near the embankment
a prayer
Some words that are not heard
Nearer the sky
And on its steps
the last square of light

("Adieu")"