so tiny, so minute!

I spent the days of my vanity. I’ve burned out the old dead bushes; I consumed them until their roots. Their ashes had grayed the soil, then the ground swallowed it, gradually, finally, completely. The great bareness, but death is still life. ‘Listen! Something has shaken, so tiny, so minute, oh it did once again’, ‘yeah may be a linnet’. ‘No sir, I’m sorry but it’s inside’. ‘Yeah I know I can feel it, but let it be and never mind. ‘Oh now I’m used to it, I almost forget it, like my breath like my heart, but week-by-week it grows apart. ‘Do not wait for nothing, just look and see what’s happening.’


Something shivers, the phone vibrates it’s quivering in Paris, it’s trembling in Dakar too. I hang the phone, and I see something new, it was not there yesterday. So tiny so minute, a little sprout just came out. There’s not much we can do, pour a little water sometimes. But not too much let do the dew, you know how delicates betimes. So tiny, so minute!


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