Wednesday, September 18, 2019


With smooth stretches, with dimples,

with puckers.

Sliding along,

smitten by its own force.

A stream, blazing furnace.

At eye level,

the sun has gone back to bed.

                                                                                    ( vanishing point )

Rain — to speak

through the foliage

without raising one's voice.

Leaves — to smooth out

word by word

the worn silk of their brooding.

                                                                       ( May, the month of May )


surveillance of the water

and the sky nearby.

Flying in veers, in swerves.

Crossing, criss-crossing

the stitches of the wind

as far as the eye can see.

                                                        ( swallows, recovering their territory )

With a stroke, with a shriek, every which way

taking out the tacking threads from the wind.


arrogant swallows

panicked by an invisible obstacle.

                                                                                 ( idem )

Smooth in its speechlessness,

the vast plain of the daylight

opens out.

Slack, motionless,

yet with no fixed point,

like one coming back to oneself.


                                                                (a new )


Haze and light,

from these heights draped

to the other shore — invisible.

The gaze hardly alights.

                                                                 ( in one stroke )

Beyond the haze,


the mountain climbs back up its slope.


in the heat,


                                                          ( from the window )

Stars in summer

in the trees.


night-time outbursts.


                                                               ( before the whole night )

Calls and responses

cry out above our heads.

Laths — your support, where is it?

Musical roof frame

ever being renovated.

                                                                  ( mentally, Paul Klee )


like, at eye level,

the base of the night

blocking the view.

                                                                 ( non-place )

Steeple, willows,

jagged shore.

Children's luminous


Impalpable hubbub.

                                                         ( a whole )

At high noon,

in summer,

they are walking through the snow.

At the edge of the road


a gravel pile

— a pothole.

                                                        ( July, high up )

Cut wheat.

The light, on the ground,

carries the night.

                                                          ( midsummer )


at the heart of summer.

The darkness

of devouring daylight.


like a raised stone.

                                                                 ( split in two )

Shadow, daytime ink

like a brushwood made

of golden-headed needles.

Will you last, rampart,

with your thousand open cracks?

Anthracite is such dense

daylight, ready to explode.

                                                             ( daylight fluting through )


gulls have alighted,

as if at he edge of the path,

on a line of reeds

they crease for the pleasure of it.

                                                                 ( propitious white stones )

Taut all day long

the bow of the summer

—noises and echoing sounds—

joins thetwo extremes.

Motionlessness of the heat.

                                                               ( sonorous space )


Pierre Chappuis
Like Bits of Wind
Seagull Books