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birthday poem

in Ihren Armen war ruhige Freude
hören Sie den Regen?
aus dem funkelnden Meer heraus
ich gehe hinunter die Gartenwege
ich bin der Wind, der wavers
süß und stark
unsere angenehmen Momente fliegen
das endlose, dumme merriment der Sterne
gegangen vor uns
obwohl Lieberepine und Grundscheuern
Ruhe als die zweiter Sommer
ich wundere manchmal, mich wenn es wirklich zutreffend ist


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