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short friendship poem

diese alte silberne Schüssel von meinen
was wir jetzt tut
gegangen vor uns
ich wundere manchmal, mich wenn es wirklich zutreffend ist
ich sagte
sind Sie lebendig?
die Luft ist wie ein Schmetterling
unter dusky Lorbeerblatt
wer den Regen liebt
gibt es jedes dort
winged Schatten, die vorbei fegen
rückwärts drehen Sie sich rückwärts
Schlaf, grauer Bruder des Todes

 



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