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fall poetry

ich liebe, eine Weile weg zu stehlen
für diese weißen Arme über meinen Ansatz
ich sah die archangels in meinem Apfel-Baum gestern Abend
im Hafen neuen Yorks
sie fragen mich, wo ich gewesen bin
schöne, tragical Gesichter
unten gekommen an der Dämmerung von den windless Hügeln
er war ein hohes junges oysterman
wie ich innen roofed liege, innen aussortiert
sie hat einen freien Raum, Wind-geschütztes loveliness
ich weiß, was Sie sagen werden

 



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