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cowboy poetry

meine Mutter unterrichtete mich daß jede Nacht
vor er war viele und viel einem Jahr
die kleinen weißen Gebete
wer den Regen liebt
einmal dieser weiche Rasen
entlang den Bänken
vor tausend leisen Jahren
vor dem ernsten Bronzeheiligen
rühren Sie sich

 



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