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thanksgiving poetry

in das leise Land
der Duft kam
ich stand das geöffnete Flügelfenster bereit
es gibt eine Stunde des ruhigen Restes
herauf von die Wiesen reich mit Mais
aus dem tiefen heraus und die Dunkelheit
wenn der Wind gegen uns in der Dunkelheit arbeitet
obwohl ich wenig als alle kleinen Sachen bin
ich sah die erste Birne
ich sah, daß Gott Sie es? bezweifeln
erneuern Sie den Anblick der Freude
wie Adler auf hoher Höhe

 



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