A special friend of mine
lives where grass meets
her dreams
and rivers are huge enough
to be American.
She knows
an idea may belong
to an old brain
but age may deserve beauty
if it has got the colors of parrots
or the silent and smiling voice
of love.
She is a pioneer of affection
Happiness is not for her
a French sofisticated thought
not even a word
but a place
where friends always learn
new languages...
untill they meet once again.