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grandmother poem

vor dem ernsten Bronzeheiligen
Gedanken durch meinen Kopf
meine Seele ist ein dunkles gepflogenes Feld
plötzlich aus den dunklen und belaubten Weisen heraus
jenseits schauen
mit Freude und Wunder
hoch-getragenes Rennen
meine Mutter twines mich die Roses, die mit Tau naß sind
ich habe das Rennen gewonnen
wo ich sollen Sie, finden Sie Sie
in Ihrem Flug

 



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