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  • Fabrice Poussin



Leaves of the oak tremble in fear for once

the air is heavy with the warmth of tired hours

azure expanses have turned to a darkened gray

the conversation has begun between the giants.

A future is being written on these natural pages

like butterflies they flutter with their last breaths

a northern breeze sings its cries filled with tears

the melody is soft amidst the roars of the infinite.

Gently raindrops fall from far-away lands above

kissing with eternal passion the colored petal

for a flower to drink heaven’s fragrant nectar

and tomorrow become the wealth of a maiden.

Sensing the approaching duel of ages the cardinals

in a frenzy join with the swallows to find shelter

writing words with their arabesques in the sky

with lightning’s pace, they are going home.

Quiet now for but a moment, the garden sleeps

the story of a serene day is etched in the future

as clouds of dark storms burst and pour out

their ire in a furious display of sounds and lights.

The orchards rests in awe respectful of the power

eyes are alert in the deepening darkness

tomorrow their story will begin again

they know tonight there will be no rainbow.

—Fabrice Poussin


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