
Cécile Coulon’s poetry is a poetry of childhood, of everyday life, of those who remind us of the flaws and the lights of each one.
Les ronces evoke memories of scratched calves, torn clothes, but also blackberries, which you pick with your parents in the light of a summer’s day, as the start of the literary school year approaches.
Between caresses and fangs, Cécile Coulon’s Les ronces reaches out to take us for a walk around Raymond Carver’s house. Along the way, she comes across slipper sellers, slender dogs, a stranger who offers a portion of French fries because he recognizes a novelist.