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lost love poem

hatten er und i aber getroffen
gaily durch die Felder tanzten wir
dieses Jahr
ich brenne keinen Duft
Farbtöne der Nacht fielen schnell
süß und stark
neben einem geschlagenen Feld
in ihren zackigen regimentals
ein Dichter, nachdem den Zaum seine Zunge entfernt habend
eins nach dem anderen wie verläßt von einem Baum
meine Seele ist ein dunkles gepflogenes Feld
vor langer Zeit im jungen Moonlight

 



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