Some objects stay with us (or the other way round)

Some objects stay with us: they give us a vocabulary and send us to encyclopedias and other books. We appreciate their shape, their colors and the material they're made of. We remember when we came across them. They were in other places, part of life stories we don't know, and now they're here in our house. They have become familiar, while often remaining foreign, even those that were intimately tied to the house of our childhood.

Our words, our possible poems, try to stay with them, too - in vain, no doubt. We have a certain friendship for their indifference.

We no longer know if the written poems were given to us by these objects or by our desire to write a poem as we looked at them. Finally, all we can see is a poem - a new object made of writing.
James Sacré