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fall poetry

mit dem Sonnenuntergang
ich schleuderte meine Seele zur Luft wie einem Falkefliegen
einige windigere Tage
ich sah die Wolken unter den Hügeln
jetzt, während meine Lippen leben
wickeln Sie die Masse im bewölkten Wetter auf
alle jene Schätze, die liegen
Massentravails
Sturm
es gibt keine Menge, gleichwohl aufgepaßt und geneigt
geschaukelt in die Aufnahmevorrichtung vom tiefen

 



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