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thanksgiving poetry

meine Seele ist ein dunkles gepflogenes Feld
Sitzen in seinem Schalthebel, der Ihren Tee wartet
dort durch das Fenster im alten Haus
Sie sind mein Begleiter
Sonne und Wind und Schlag von Meer
wie wild, wie Hexe-wie sonderbares, das das Leben sein sollte
ich sehe allen menschlichen Esprit

 



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