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￭ The oak 
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2016-12-10 | [This text should be read in francais] | Submited by Guy Rancourt Quand j’arpente les larges avenues poétiques Je suis Place des Étoiles Les mots m’éperonnent Et ne me laissent que leur queue de feu Stridente à mes yeux fauves Et dont je ne peux saisir Que le vent brûlant Sur les champs de blé de Van gogh. (Gatien Lapointe, Poèmes retrouvés, Trois-Rivières, Écrits des Forges, 2016, p. 91)
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