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mother poem

ich liebe meine Stunde des Winds und des Lichtes
die Schiffe liegen in der Bucht
über ihnen alle, unten schauend
dort durch das Fenster im alten Haus
für dann außen
Kerzen, die seitlich in den Tomatedosen stürzen
ich habe daß eine bestimmte Prinzessin gehört
wenn Nacht entlang den Straßen der Stadt treibt
Bruder, bin ich Feuer
grünes Nachmittagsserene und hell

 



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