Poetry

Observations, imaginations and yearnings rooted in ecology, nature conservation, forests and abstract ideas.

Habit

Habit blooms like a little flower.

For an entire week you appeared in my dream, gentle as a brook that flows in a silent forest receiving a slice of the sunlight on its body.

The light is magic.

Powdered rainbow falls like magic dust

I toss myself in the swamp of your thoughts.

I look at her as a curious magpie ready to strike.