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romantic poetry

dieser merkwürdige Begleiter kam auf shuffling Füße
gegen die grüne Flamme des Weißdorn-Baums
mit den meek, braunen Augen
und mit dem Summenvogel
ich gehe hinunter die Gartenwege
seien Sie nicht mit mir verärgert
wir legen
Glasbläser der Zeit

 



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