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narrative poetry

für diese weißen Arme über meinen Ansatz
die Wiese kroch
die kleinen weißen Gebete
Himmel, die sie waren, ashen und nüchtern
Nacht ist dunkel und die Winterwinde
aus dem Fenster heraus ein Meer der grünen Bäume
auf und ab geht ihn
sie war eine Schönheit an den Tagen
ich verachte meine Freunde mehr als Sie
Hinausschieben, vainly kämpfend
blau-schwarze nubian zupfende Orangen

 



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