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als Meer-Winde unsere Solitudes durchbohrten
drei Tage hörte ich sie, sich Sorgen zu machen, wann ich absolut lege
in den mournful Zahlen
gegen die grüne Flamme des Weißdorn-Baums
der Blitz blitzte und hob an
rühren Sie sich
was es die gesagten Maschinen war
gegangen die drei, jene seltenen Schwestern
das endlose, dumme merriment der Sterne

 



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  • Look for the lit in the obits - Winnipeg Free Press
  • For the Records - Philadelphia citypaper.net
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  • Poet, Professor of Ethnic Studies Dies - Daily Californian
  • An Influx of Poets - Central Maine Morning Sentinel
  • Fred and Roberta Fessenbecker (Cape Gazette)
  • Upstate NY home to religious retreats - PR-Inside.com (Pressemitteilung)
  • Warrior and Witch: Marie Brennan interviewed - Crows Nest
  • U.P. artist displays work (WLUC Marquette)
  • In small town, an immense loss (Boston Globe)
  • Enjoy a fusion of art, music (Poughkeepsie Journal)
 

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