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autumn poetry

behold ich, in meinem chiffon, in Gaze und in Filterstreifen
der Geruch von stieg so falsch, die zutreffenden Dornen so
auf und ab geht ihn
ich wundere manchmal, mich wenn es wirklich zutreffend ist
die Schiffe liegen in der Bucht
ich habe den Silence der Sterne und des Meeres gekannt
ein Himmel, der nie Sonne, Mond oder Sterne gekannt hat
unter dusky Lorbeerblatt

 



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