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romantic poem

in ihren zackigen regimentals
ein Sturm fährt auf den Tide
meine sorge, wenn sie hier mit mir ist
winged Schatten, die vorbei fegen
das Swanbestehen
glooms der Lebeneichen
ein Dichter, nachdem den Zaum seine Zunge entfernt habend
ich mag es
entlang den Bänken
mit den meek, braunen Augen
ich fĂĽlle diese Schale
sie hörte die Kinder, in der Sonne zu spielen
fĂĽr war mich ein gaunt, ernstes Ratsmitglied

 



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