Images de L'enfance.

 

 

                                           Je revois l'hirondelle

                                  Qui plane à tire d'ailes

 

 

                                            

 

                                 Je revois un enfant

                                De sa jeunesse jouant.

                                                              

                               

 

                                        Un soleil brillant 

                                         Chaud, étouffant,           

 

                                           

 

                                                 Une herbe toute brûlée

                                  Tapie dans les prés.

 

                                                       

 

                                                  Un arbre tout pimpant

                                      Ombre faisant.

 

                                                     

 

                                                  Des photos qui restent encrées

                                    Et qui ne passent jamais.

 

                                               

 

                                                Mais que sont devenus les hommes

                                               Ceux qui devaient être frères.

 

                                              

 

                                      Mais que sont devenus  ces mômes

                                        Ceux qui ne devaient plus faire la guerre.

 

 

                                   

 

 

                                                            

                                              Joël Charvillat