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religious poem

für diese weißen Arme über meinen Ansatz
wenn die Stunden des Tages numeriert werden
und mit dem Summenvogel
weich weinend
ich sah die archangels in meinem Apfel-Baum gestern Abend
nicht von der breiten Welt des Ganzen
gibt es jedes dort
die Schiffe liegen in der Bucht
haben Sie gesehenes Gehen durch das Dorf
Sie sind schön und verblassen

 



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