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Vague Stream


A curious hot winter
At the turn of the year
Sand from the Sahara
Has come to us while we can’t fly
Blown away, it’s now pouring from above


Weeping snow

Weeping sand

Losing notion of geography

Either of the seasons

Knowing indeed

That the river floats decidedly,

Seeing only

The abstraction of its stream

Shall we rely on unfixed things

To make our present real ?

Yet, reality overpassed my imagination,

Light and colors

Like painting strokes

And fishes lighting up the sky

Statistic waves,

Roller coaster of cases,

Park us indefinitely

On the side

Of a being built road


My body is stationary but

Everything moves around,

The invisible above all

Is motionless only in my dreams ?

Cause I do see and feel

The seconds are running

Geneva, January 2020

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