Poetry Friday

Speech Alone

It happens that one pronounces
a few words just for oneself
alone on this strange earth
then the small white flower
the pebble like all those that went before
the sprig of stubble
find themselves re-united
at the foot of the gate
which one opens slowly
to enter the house of clay
while chairs, table, cupboard,
blaze in a sun of glory.

  — Jean Follain (1903 – 1971) French lawyer, judge, and poet. Translated by W.S. Merwin.