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thanksgiving poetry

Ruhe als die zweiter Sommer
im September
und noch gingen sie an
Freund, dessen Lächeln gekommen ist zu sein
ich wundere mich, wo Sie leben
aus dem Fenster heraus ein Meer der grünen Bäume
sie fragen mich, wo ich gewesen bin
weich jetzt das Licht des Tages
Gedanken durch meinen Kopf
ich erwarte Sie
stieg und Bernstein war der Sonnenuntergang auf dem FluĂź
Nobility des Todes wieder

 



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