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christmas poetry

die Luft ist von Dämmerung und Frühling voll
weich jetzt das Licht des Tages
was spiteful Wahrscheinlichkeit unawares stiehlt
wenn ich zurück zu Masse gehe
die Wiese kroch
in die Dunkelheit und Frieden meinem abschließenden Betts
die langen resounding Marmorflure
in den mournful Zahlen
ein Himmel, der nie Sonne, Mond oder Sterne gekannt hat
ich muß sagen gute Nacht

 



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