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haiku poem

sehen Sie das vorläufige
meine Mutter unterrichtete mich daß jede Nacht
ich fülle diese Schale
da ich der Richtung des Todes geglaubt habe
ich erwarte Sie
rühren Sie sich
noch schaukelt ihr Grau Aufsatz über das Meer
die Luft ist von Dämmerung und Frühling voll
eine Meile nach

 



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