Leslie Philibert Biography

In the night the moon got stolen
lunatics shook their fists at empty heavens,
cats stared at holes in the dark night
and seas turned into lakes, tides refused,
...

As if the pale stones
share the warmth
between two sides;
sea and field cut,
...

You are the burnt map of Summer
black-edged with lost words
that make the heat a blanket
...

Early darkness; as oil we drip on tarmac,
a gathering in black fallen from the sky.
With lemon faces we shadow the next.
...

Doors moan like lovers, as compassion flows
like sick over scrubbed floors.

Controlled circumstance of pity,
...