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autumn poem

er kam mich durch die Hand nehmen
bewiesen im Schimmer in Ihren Augen
auf und ab geht ihn
gegangen vor uns
es gibt eine Stadt, builded durch keine Hand
truely
gestern Abend legte der Vollmond ein Tuch von Weiß
machen Sie sich nicht Sorgen, daß er rüber sein
burly, DösenHumblebiene
die alten Songs
ich sah die erste Birne
wenn Nacht entlang den Straßen der Stadt treibt

 



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