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child poem

die Schwärzung
gegangen die drei, jene seltenen Schwestern
ich halte Ihr Herz
weich jetzt das Licht des Tages
was spiteful Wahrscheinlichkeit unawares stiehlt
und so geht sie
ein Himmel, der nie Sonne, Mond oder Sterne gekannt hat
winged Schatten, die vorbei fegen
ich wußte nie, daß die Masse soviel Gold hatte
sie sprengte fierce Wein
grünes Nachmittagsserene und hell
ich verachte meine Freunde mehr als Sie

 



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