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angel poem

wie wild, wie Hexe-wie sonderbares, das das Leben sein sollte
meine sorge, wenn sie hier mit mir ist
gestiegen von den Toten
und während wir gingen, wurde das Gras schwach gerührt
der Regen sein rüber und die leuchtende Luft
wenig Gatter wurde schließlich erreicht
weich als das Bett in der Masse

 



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