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birthday poem

sie sagte
wölbte die Flut
Sonne trat unten von seinem goldenen Throne
herauf von den SĂĽden am Bruch des Tages
in einem alten Raum beleuchtete weich
Bonbon mit Farn und stieg
mit Freude und Wunder
schreckliche Wahrheiten diese sind
wenn Nacht entlang den StraĂźen der Stadt treibt
die Schwärzung rollt aufwärts
letzter Mitternacht
bewiesen im Schimmer in Ihren Augen
unsere angenehmen Momente fliegen
wenn ihr Haar wild flaying

 



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