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mother daughter poem

noch dreizehn Jahre
ich stand das geöffnete Flügelfenster bereit
ruhig mit reverance, im Awe
die Schwärzung rollt aufwärts
ich kann nicht seinem greatness immer glauben
der Himmel
Sie sagen, daĂź Sie mich lieben
aus dem tiefen heraus und die Dunkelheit
durch die rude BrĂĽcke
an der Dämmerung sagte er
was es die gesagten Maschinen war
die langen resounding Marmorflure

 



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