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religious poem

stern kalter Mann
Blüten der Babys
meine sorge, wenn sie hier mit mir ist
ich bin in das Ödland gekommen, weil meine Seele athirst ist
noch schaukelt ihr Grau Aufsatz über das Meer
unter dusky Lorbeerblatt
mit den meek, braunen Augen
die Schwärzung stiehlt die Formen aller Königinnen
ich weiß nicht wo
ich gehe meine Weise complacently
gestern Abend legte der Vollmond ein Tuch von Weiß
als weiße Kerze

 



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